


The Lives We Lead

by talesfromthepayload



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-30 23:50:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12119976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesfromthepayload/pseuds/talesfromthepayload
Summary: A collection of one-shots with different characters. Some are higher rating than others.





	1. A Simple Man (Jesse McCree x Reader)

Jesse McCree was a simple man. He knew what he wanted and he got it. That was as complicated as he cared to have his life.

Attaining a string of lovers had never been a difficult task for McCree. He did have a roguish charm and a swoon-worthy smirk. So, when Winston brought around a new recruit with a darling figure and a sweet smile, Jesse laid down as many flirtatious winks as he could muster. He gave you a week before you would be in his bed. That was seven months ago.

At first, McCree saw you as another conquest for him. It later turned to a challenge, and, well, now… now he didn’t know what to call it. Realistically, he knew what it meant when his heart sped up at the sight of you, his conversations always steering on the topic of your intelligence. He couldn’t help himself from staring a little too long, touching you whenever possible, lingering around when he knew you’d be arriving. Jesse McCree was in love and he damn well knew it. Not that he’d admit to it.

“Howdy, cowboy,” you teased, a flash of pink poking out from between your teeth. He swallowed heavily at the sight of your tongue peeking out.

“Hiya, darlin’,” Jesse greeted, a confident smirk soothing the butterflies in his stomach.

“Did 76 brief you on the mission yet?” You asked excitedly, oblivious to the inner turmoil you were causing the gunslinger.

“Haven’t gotten the chance to get around to that, no,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. It was a little tick he’d formed whenever you got a little too close to him. Of course, “too close” was never close enough in his books, but he didn’t want you knowing the extent of his admiration for you.

“Well, how’d ya reckon being my partner on this here mission?” You questioned, giggles barely contained as you mimicked McCree’s accent to the best of your ability.

Jesse barked out a laugh at your horrible impression, nodding along as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I reckon I could deal, darlin’, so long as you never speak like that again.”

You puffed your bottom lip out, leaning in close to McCree.

“I just thought maybe since we’re partners now I’d be able to wear the hat.”

Jesse’s hand shot up to his valuable possession, securing it to his head, a little frown tugging on his lips.

“Absolutely not, sugar.”

“But Jesse…” you exclaimed, squinting your eyes in just the right way so that you mirrored the expression a puppy might give his owner when he wishes for a treat.

“No,” he stated firmly, a smile betraying his tone.

Your frown grew closer as you leaned up, resting your forehead against Jesse’s cheekbone. You sighed, breath hot against McCree’s skin. One of his brow’s raised as he held his breath, daring to hope that maybe you’d felt as he did.

You thought on your friendship with McCree briefly, remembering all the times you’d wish it to progress forward but stopped yourself from doing so out of fear. Some wandering courage found home in your heart, granting you the strength to push your lips against Jesse’s cheek, right on the corner of his mouth.

Warmth flooded his face, his hands settling on your shoulders as he processed what you’d done. Had this meant anything? Did this mean you felt the same way he did? Or was this just a friendly gesture?

His failure to respond gave you one more ounce of courage. You lifted yourself into your tiptoes and inched forward, satisfied only once your soft lips were firmly against his. He titled his head the slightest bit, sliding his mouth against yours so that it fit perfectly, as if it were meant to be there.

Breathlessly, you smiled against him. He couldn’t help but mimic the action.

“Does this mean I can wear the hat?” You asked teasingly.

“No.” McCree replied curtly, stopping you from protesting by pulling you in for a longer, messier kiss. After all, Jesse McCree was a simple man, one that always got what he wanted.


	2. Unmasked (Soldier:76 x Reader)

Jack had been so hesitant at pursuing you in the beginning. You were just too young, too kind, and he knew deep down that he’d destroy that. Eventually, his feelings grew to a point where he couldn’t keep them hidden anymore. So, he kept himself somewhat distant with his mask.

Ever since the two of you let your feelings be known, you’d been spending copious amounts of time in each other’s company. You’d even occasionally hold hands or rest in each other’s arms, but Jack refused to take off his mask. While insecurity played a big part in why he kept his mask on, it was also a chance to keep some kind of buffer for your relationship.

It hurt you that he couldn’t trust you to see himself fully, but you understood. He needed that little piece of him in order for him to admit his true feelings. Still, as time wore on and weeks turned to months, you couldn’t help but let it effect you. You didn’t tell Jack, hoping in vain that he didn’t notice how it made you feel.

Some nights it’d spark tense arguments, though you never directly said why. It didn’t take Jack long to figure out that his refusal to reveal himself to you was causing a rift in your relationship.

“(Y/N)?” Jack tentatively called.

The two of you had been sitting in silence for hours following an argument. Both of you were hurting, though you were too stubborn to admit it.

“Yeah?” You inquired, rubbing the tears from your eyes. Your back was to Jack, though you had no doubt he knew you’d been crying.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, dropping his head in his arms. He’d unconsciously brought his knees to his chest, curling in on himself.

“It’s o-”

“It’s not just that,” Jack interrupted, back tense as his anxiousness grew. “I’m sorry for hiding myself from you.”

“You don’t need to hide yourself from me,” you pressed lightly, turning your head towards him.

The pale moonlight bathed your cheeks, your hair aglow under the soft light. The twinkle in your eyes forced a swallow down his throat. You were so beautiful, so breathtaking, he knew he didn’t deserve you.

“I’m not a young man,” he said, voice gruff and filled with defeat.

He couldn’t keep this barrier between the two of you anymore, even if it meant you leaving him. As much as he’d do to keep you, he’d never want your love under false pretenses. You deserved the truth more than anything.

“Jack,” you whispered, reaching for his hand.

His head dropped a fraction, a frown finding his lips as your delicate fingers intertwined with his. Electricity sparked with every touch between the two of you. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. After everything he did, Jack knew that he was being wildly unfair. The universe didn’t owe him anything, let alone someone so unimaginably perfect it made his heart ache.

“You know I love you.”

Jack swallowed, his eyes sealing shut. This was it, this was when he’d lose you. With a defeated sigh, Jack untangled his hand from you and clicked the device on either side of his cheeks. A little hiss followed, loosening the material just enough so he could pull the device from his face. Slowly, ever slowly, the ethereal light revealed his features.

His face was sharp, age doing nothing the dull the effect. Two angry pink lines marked his face; one cutting across the bridge of his nose and the other across his lip. Surprisingly, stubble littered his jaw line, the color matching his white hair. His lips were turned down in a frown. Though, you were more focused on his eyes. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for those bright blue orbs that stared at you with so much fear and adoration you nearly swept the man up in a hug.

They were deep and full of sorrow. They told a story of loss, of hatred, of rage, but, they also told a story of heroism, of redemption, of love. They were windows into his haunted soul and his newly revived heart. You were lost in them.

“This… okay?” He coughed awkwardly, not entirely sure of himself.

You’d never have expected the old soldier to act this way. He’d never once wavered in confidence, but it seems you were the only exception.

“You’re so handsome,” you blurted out, your cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink at your words.

Though, you’d take the embarrassment time and time again if it got Jack to smile that meaningfully. The smile went right from his lips to his eyes, where the expression only seemed to brighten.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, still smiling as his eyes fell to the ground, a hand rubbing the back of his neck.

His heart was practically singing with his love for you. The years of burdens and hardship dissipated as he met your eyes once more, growing a little in confidence. Maybe you really did love him for him. Just one more thing…

“Do I look… familiar?”

He tried to gauge the situation. He wasn’t sure if you’d recognize him as Strike Commander Jack Morrison or not. He’d been such a different person then that he wasn’t even sure if he recognized that same man in himself anymore.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek. “Jack Morrison.”

It wasn’t a question, even so, Jack nodded. You knew his first name, but he’d kept his full identity a secret until now.

“That explains the whole hero complex, anyway,” you said.

For a minute, Jack panicked. Did that mean you didn’t approve of him?

His fear melted away a moment later when you stuck your tongue out at him, smiling cheekily despite the muscular organ taking up most of the space. 

Jack breathed out a laugh, relieved that you were taking this so well.

“Thank you,” he stated, genuinely.

He didn’t know what else to say. No words seemed adequate to express his gratitude at your love. He was so blessed to be able to hold somebody so perfect. Never in his life did he think he’d find this happiness, but here you were, you and that sweet smile.


	3. Home (Hanzo x Reader)

For the past few weeks, Hanzo had been away with his brother, newly reunited through the efforts of the revived Overwatch. At first, he’d been distraught over the news of his revived brother. You’d been his outlet as he poured his emotions into a new speech every night. You were quite surprised by the amount he spoke when on the subject of his brother. Just a week prior you were lucky if you could get him to elaborate about Genji at all. 

Hanzo had felt guilty at the amount he’d been leaning on you to help get him through this time. He was normally so self sufficient that he wouldn’t dare ask for your help. Now, he needed your help. Hanzo was at a loss, his emotions conflicting one another. He didn’t know what to do or where to go- so, naturally, he went to you.

His feet were silent across the cool wood of your shared house. At this hour, the sky pitched the whole of the interior into a deep black. He couldn’t see a thing, but he didn’t need to. He knew his way around better than anywhere else. Unsurprisingly, you were peacefully asleep under the light blue covers of the bed the two of you shared. Your hair was a little messy, your mouth slightly open, and your limbs splayed widely. 

Hanzo smiled fondly, happy to see you at peace. He took a few steps forward, stopping by your side as he admired your soft features. You were the best part of him, and, as he always did whenever he caught you in such quiet moments, he silently vowed to never let harm befall you. He would be the guardian of your being, while you would be the mender of his mind. 

Unable to help himself, he leaned forward, inhaling your familiar scent. You brought a sense of warmth to his body, just as you always had. He hadn’t the slightest what he’d done to deserve somebody so loyal and perfect in every way but he hoped that he could prove every single day that he appreciated your time and your effort. 

“Hanzo,” you mumbled, eyes still closed as you blindly reached for him. 

Time hadn’t change the tingly sensation he felt whenever you touched him, the feeling raising in intensity when your little hand wrapped around his arm. 

“Yes, my love?” He whispered breathily, afraid that should his voice rise in volume, he’d stir you further from sleep. 

“You’re home,” you lazily smiled, squeezing at his arm. 

He nodded, well aware you couldn’t see the action. You didn’t seem to mind anyways as you scooted over to the other side of the bed, allowing him room to lie down. He hesitated, if only for a moment, before releasing a quieted sigh. He laid himself behind you, allowing you to wiggle around until you situated yourself against him, humming contentedly when his strong arm wrapped around your waist, securing you in place. 

Hanzo listened as your breathing evened out, his lips quirked up all the while. Even your breath calmed him, reminding him of the inner peace and happiness your presence provided him with. He rested his head against the back of yours, placing the occasional kiss on your scalp as he thought of his current predicament.

Sleep slowly crept in on him, his eyes growing closed with the passage of time. He could discuss Genji with you in the morning. Until then, he would hold you and sleep. His worries melted away as he tightened his grip. You breathed out something incomprehensible, wiggling you backside a little until you deemed yourself comfortable. 

Hanzo smiled, the expression reaching his eyes. His worries never lasted long when you were around. Deep down, he knew that as long as you were happy and you were safe, he had not true worry. He only had you: his home, his happiness, and his heart.


	4. Late Nights (Soldier:76 x Reader)

The occasional nightly trek wasn’t uncommon for you, or anybody involved with Overwatch, really. You all had too many memories, too many wounds, to sleep peacefully. So, when you tiredly stumbled into the training room, you weren’t surprised to find Jack, or Soldier: 76, as the world knew him better, taking his frustrations out on one particularly beaten-looking punching bag. 

“Rough night?” You asked dryly, knowing full well it was probably his mind keeping him from the blissfulness of sleep. 

“Something like that,” Jack mumbled gruffly, sweat dripping down his forehead.

By some miracle, he wasn’t wearing the visor he insisted on adorning all of the time. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Jack without all of his standard gear on, but it always managed to take your breath away when you got a glimpse of him without it. He was in a tight, black t-shirt that clung to the muscles beneath, his legs covered by standard issue sweatpants. His white hair was mussed in all directions, fists red, with the occasional scrape here or there. Weariness shined in the bright blue of his eyes, and, silently, you mused how you’d never seen anybody look quite so alluring. 

“Mind if I join?” You inquired, not bothering to wait for a reply. 

You knew he’d say yes. You and 76 had a special kind of friendship. You didn’t do things conventionally. Instead of watching movies or getting food together, you trained and challenged each other. Your talks weren’t long and pointless, they were short and filled with emotion. You told each other everything important, though you both did still keep your secrets. It was a silent understanding between the two of you for now. One day you’d share, but for the present, it was best if some things remained secret. 

Silence ensued, not that either of you really minded. The two of you were comfortable in silence. Occasionally, you’d sneak a peak at what 76 was doing, before returning to your own task. Not that you were doing a whole lot beside throwing out a punch every few minutes. You were much too tired to keep up with the soldier. That was another thing you admired about him, you mused, leaning against your punching bag as your half-lidded eyes found their way to his form. 

He was so persistent and displayed so much strength, even when it was something as simple as training. You smiled to yourself, that familiar feeling in your stomach strengthening as his bright, blue eyes met your tired ones. For a moment, just a moment, you were so captivated by how he made you feel- and then you realized you were staring. 

A blush stained your cheeks as your eyes widened. You stammered an apology, dropping your gaze to the floor. You had to think of an excuse, something to make him think you hadn’t been staring at the defined muscles hidden beneath his clothes and the way his eyes narrowed the slightest bit when he made contact with his target. 

"I was just thinking,“ you continued, mentally taking note that he was now the one staring when you picked your gaze back up, "about how easy it would be for me to kick your ass, old man." 

One side of his mouth quirked up, knowing you were presenting a challenge.

"That’d be the first,” he taunted, taking rise to your little game. 

He had a point. Whenever the two of you sparred, he almost always won, simply because you’d either get too distracted or he’d cheat, not that he’d admit that aloud.

"What can I say? I might actually try this time.“ You teased, a full fledged smile on your lips. 

His smile wasn’t nearly as wide as yours, but you noticed how it genuinely spread to his tired eyes. 

"I’ll give you the first hit,” Jack offered, hands spread wide as he waited for you to make your move. 

You weren’t fooled by his casual nature. His stance was too sturdy, his eyes too sharp. He was ready for you, and you knew if you went for him now, he’d have you flat on the ground within the second. Instead, you took a moment to simply observe him. His legs were bent at the knee, ready to spur forward at a moments notice. His arms, while spread open casually, were tensed, poised in the perfect position for attack. If you ran directly for him, he would sidestep you and drop you. If you faked one side, his stance was wide enough where he’d be able to provide enough defense until he recovered from whatever blow you threw at him to fully attack. Naturally, you took the third option. 

Instead of running straight for him, you walked leisurely, holding your hands up in surrender. He watched you closely, not quite sure what angle you were coming at. Your face betrayed nothing, the smile you so wished to show being kept down at the thought of taking Jack by surprise. You stopped only when you were mere inches from Jack, his bright eyes glinting curiously. 

Unconsciously, his hands moved a little closer to where you stood, almost as if he were going to wrap them around your waist but then thought better of it. To you, it just looked as if he were preparing himself for a different approach. To him, however, it had been a slip-up, his heart momentarily spurring his actions. He’d wanted to hold you, he realized, but failed to let himself act on it. You wouldn’t like an old dog like him. You’d want someone full of life and happiness. 

Tentatively, you reached your hand up, stuttering a bit before you placed it lightly on his neck. A spark shot down his spine at the feel of your heated skin on his. Briefly, he entertained the idea that maybe you did feel something for him other than friendship. He shot the idea down as quickly as it came. Your gentleness was short lived as you pushed hard on his neck. 

He wasn’t expecting it so his head came crashing down, arms whipping out from years of reflexes. He tried to grab at you, but you were expecting it. You shoved him forward with your free hand. He stumbled back, catching himself. Just as he went to dive in for an attack, you hooked one leg behind his, dropping yourself forward, both hands gripping his shirt. The sudden shift in weight had him going back with you, effectively pinning him. 

"I win,“ you whispered, eyes filled with mirth. 

Two strong arms held firmly onto your hips, pushing up an attempt to flip the tables. You had known Jack too well, however, so you were expecting it. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him and breaking him of his hold. After trapping both hands above his head, you smirked. 

"Admit it,” you giggled, mind too tired to really acknowledge the compromising position. 

Jack, however, was painfully aware. Your legs were on either side of him, hands holding his, and head thrown back with laughter. It exposed your bare neck to him and if he lifted himself the tiniest bit, he knew he could drag his tongue along your skin. He exhaled shakily, cursing his mind for enjoying what he saw just a little too much. He’d been lost in a trance, daydreaming of what he could to you in this position, of the sounds he could get to leave those precious lips of yours.

"Jack?“ You questioned, leaning a little closer. 

Darkness had engulfed the brightness of his orbs. You heard him mutter something to himself, giving you no time to react as he surged forward, lips connecting with yours hungrily. He was a man that had been starved of this kind of contact for too long. Watching you time and time again as you unconsciously teased him from afar caused a feral hunger to rise in him. Some days, all he wanted to see was your smile, all he wanted to feel was your hug. Today was not one of those days. He wanted you. 

You’d squeaked out something close to a moan, sighing into his kiss and slowing it down with your own lazy pace. By some miracle he followed, the once hungry kiss turning into a loving exploration of one another’s mouths. After some time you pulled away, dragging in as much air as you could. 

"That was… unexpected,” you said warily, raising a brow at him. He was still recovering. His chest bobbed with each heavy breath, his body still as he drank in the information. You’d kissed him back. You hadn’t been reviled, you were happy- eager, even. 

"I think it’s best we both call it a day though,“ you suggested, knowing that the conversation this interaction would spark would best be done while you were both a little more rested. 

"Yeah,” he agreed breathlessly, meeting your eyes for the first time since he kissed you. 

You smiled, wide and completely unforced. He found it to be the most beautiful thing he ever looked at. He lifted a hand to your hair, brushing a strand to the side that’d fallen into your face during the sparring. His face was mirroring yours as you helped him to his feet, embracing him in a warm hug that didn’t last long enough.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” Jack whispered, resting his lips on your forehead.

"Goodnight, Jack.”


	5. Comforts of Home (Pharah x Reader)

Fareeha “Pharah” Amari was a busy woman with far too many things to do. She tried her best to balance work with rest, but more often than not, the scale seemed to tip in work’s direction. It’d been another late night, no less rough than the last week, and she could think of nowhere she’d rather be than at home with the one she loved.

It wasn’t until well after midnight when she finally made it to her shared house, a smile as she passed through the familiar doors. Bed sounded like the greatest treat to her, and a bed with you, no less. She could relax and stay close to the one she loved all night.

Considering the time, she’d expected you to be in bed, fast asleep. She’d figured that perhaps you left a note, as you often did when you knew she’d be out late. It wouldn’t be anything too extravagant, just a little reminder of how much she meant to you and a request that she wake you up when she get home. Not that Pharah ever listened to that portion of your notes.

Her boots thudded heavily on the wood paneling as she shed her jacket, lazy strides bringing her towards the bedroom. She’d almost made it to the blissful room she’d been seeking ever since she had to leave it early this morning before she stopped short, her tired eyes noticing movement from somewhere to her side.

More than that, a muffled tune was coming from the kitchen, the rhythmic beat sounding like one of Lúcio’s new productions. She’d barely turned the corner when she caught sight of you wearing one of her old t-shirts, moving around the room with cheesy dance moves.

On impulse, you tossed a pancake from the pan into the air, letting out a little squeal when the pancake landed on the edge of the pan, almost falling onto the ground.

Pharah couldn’t help but giggle at the display, causing you to jump high into the air.

“You scared me,” you said breathlessly, sliding the pan onto the stove once more.

“Sorry,” Pharah mumbled, though she still sported a wide grin. “What are you still doing up?”

“Well,” you began sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck, incidentally smearing pancake batter there as well. “I was thinking that you probably haven’t eaten dinner yet and I knew you wouldn’t be back until pretty later, er, early, so I thought I could bring you dinner in bed.”

You smiled, leaning back a bit in anticipation of what she thought of the idea.

“I am hungry,” she commented, giving you all the positive reinforcement you needed to continue. “I didn’t realize it would be dinner and a show, though.”

Her eyes glinted with humor as she referred to your not-so-great dance moves.

“It was cute,” she said, leaning forward to press a short, sweet kiss to your lips.

You couldn’t help but blush, smiling so widely you thought your cheeks might split in two.

“You can thank Lúcio for the music,” you stated, confirming Pharah’s earlier suspicions.

The smirk that had settled on Pharah’s lips grew, your brow raising in question at what she found so amusing.

“Your pancake is on fire,” she answered nonchalantly.

“My what?” You gulped, picking the pan up and running it to the kitchen sink. You turned the water on, jumping back as the offending utensil sizzled out, smoke rising from where your food had been.

You sighed, a little downcast. You’d been working hard to make something special for Pharah, but it was difficult with how little of sleep you were running on.

“I’ll get us a pizza,” you suggested, knowing a little store that stayed open 24 hours.

“Still in bed?” Pharah inquired hopefully, ready to wind down for the day.

“Of course,” you nodded quickly, pulling Pharah in for a hug. “Sometimes you work yourself too hard, Fareeha.”

Pharah’s arms wrapped around you, her head resting atop yours as she released a puff of air.

“How about we spend the day tomorrow in bed?”

Her suggestion sounded like heaven itself.

“That’s perfect,” you agreed, leaning a little further into her touch as she kissed your forehead, happy to be in the comforts of her own home.


	6. 76 (Soldier:76 x Reader)

Jack Morrison mourned a lot of things from the old Overwatch days.

He missed the security of knowing that he could sleep safely. He missed making a difference on a large scale. He missed his family. But more than anything he missed you.

After the fall of Overwatch, you disappeared. He’d been searching all over the world for you, as well as answers. He longed to see your smile, to hear your laugh. His world was torn apart when Overwatch fell, but his soul was shattered when you’d gone missing.

He could live without Overwatch, without being a hero, but he couldn’t carry on with you gone. You’d become his everything, his whole world was nothing more than your happiness.

“Get out of here, old man,” a voice spat, anger welling in the speaker’s brown eyes.

Jack growled.

Without warning he lunged at the five guys who his intelligence had brought him to. He’d heard that he had a lead on where an old Overwatch agent had been.

“Jesus,” the smaller, more timid of the bunch shouted as Jack threw the biggest one to the ground as if he were nothing.

They were untrained and sloppy and Jack didn’t even break a sweat bringing them all to their knees.

“Where is she?” He screamed, grabbing the nearest one by the shirt. 

He balled the material in his fists, watching with thinly veiled patience as the young boy paled, his eyes wide. He was terrified, Jack could tell.

“Look m-man, I don’t, uh, don’t know w-what you’re talking about,” he tried, his lip between his teeth.

Jack’s fist was on his cheek faster than he could even scream.

“Where,” one punch.

“Is,” two punch, followed by a swift knee to the ribs.

“She?” He finished, an uppercut to his jaw.

The kid flew backward, bloodied and beaten. Whatever fight he’d had in him had long since faded, tears flowing from his eyes.

“Look man, I’m sorry, some guy said he’d pay us…”

Jack’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Who would pay for an Overwatch agent unless…

“What guy?” Jack ground out, stalking closer to the beaten kid.

“I don’t know his name, man!” The kid shouted, scrambling backwards, looking to his friends for help. 

Desperately, one killed called out, “He had a skull, looked like the grim reaper almost. I swear, we didn’t know what he’d do with her, he just promised us money.”

The blood beneath Jack’s skin boiled at dangerous levels. What did Reaper want with you? And why in the whole of hell would these guys give you over?

“Why was she with you guys?” His voice was low, ominously so.

He was like the calm before the storm, all tense muscles and narrow eyes. His patience was a facade, and they all knew it.

“She was, uh,” the boy swallowed his words, fearing that the answer would enrage Soldier: 76 more.

“What? I don’t have all day.” His voice was like ice, cold and unforgiving.

“She was protecting us,” the kid finally admitted, his eyes dropping in shame.

Jack felt his resolve snap. He would not spare these kids, not after something like that.

“Leave,” he whispered, trying to get them away before he released his true rage.

“B-but-”

“Leave,” he damn near screamed.

The kids didn’t need another warning as they scrambled off in different directions, eyes looking back to make sure he wasn’t following them.

Jack didn’t move a muscle, his eyes open though he wasn’t really looking at anything in particular. In his mind, he could see the happier days. Back when he was Strike Commander Morrison and you were his one and only love. Back when you loved him unconditionally and he loved you without hesitation. Back when you were there with him.

He fell to his knees, anguish rushing through his veins at another failed lead. He was so, so lost and if he didn’t find you, he knew he’d never be whole again. A tear pricked his eye as he remembered every single time the words “I love you” passed through your lips, all 76.


	7. A Night in the Life... (Soldier:76 x Reader)

Jack didn’t like to keep you worrying. He knew that whenever he went away, specifically for extended periods of time, your entire schedule was thrown out of whack. You would barely sleep, almost never eat, and constantly search for a way to contact him. His heart ached at the amount you cared for him. On the quieter days he was out, he’d find a way to talk to you, to assure you that he was okay. He’d be lying if those talks were just for your benefit.

Dammit did he miss you when he was away. He found falling asleep without you in his arms was the most difficult obstacle he’d run into. Even though you were safe at your shared apartment, he’d worry that perhaps you were in danger. It’d always be mended by the sweet expression that stuck to your face as you peacefully slept, your arms spread wide, inviting him to hold you and protect you like he promised.

Naturally, a smile found its way on his weary face as he entered the apartment, his heart skipping a beat at the prospect of finally being home. He wasted no time in disposing of his gear, neatly putting them where they belong before stalking off towards the bedroom. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t damn near sprinting.

His feet, however, were stopped short when a little melody found his ears. It was a familiar tune, one that’d been playing on your first date together. He’d taken you into his arms and swayed to rhythm. Jack swore to himself that day that the next time he danced with you, it’d be when you got married.

“(Y/N)?” Jack whispered, still quiet just in case you were asleep.

A hum was all he got in reply as he turned the corner into the kitchen. There you were, huddled under one of his old, faded jackets he’d draped over your shoulders after your first kiss. Your hips were moving back and forth gently, a lazy smile spread on your lips as you nodded your head to the slow beat, a spatula in one hand. 

You’d waited up for him.

His heart nearly burst at the sight. He’d seen you at your lowest and at your highest, in the throes of pleasure and the pits of sorrow, he’d seen you cry, he’d seen you laugh, he’d seen you dressed up, and he’d seen you fresh out of bed in the morning. Out of all these times, he’d never seen you look as breathtaking as you did now.

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” you admitted sheepishly, gesturing vaguely to the mess. “So I thought I could keep myself distracted.”

You breathed out a sigh.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Jack.”

The spatula hadn’t even hit the ground before you ran forward, throwing yourself into his arms. He caught you without a hitch, spinning you in a circle as he held you close to his chest.

This was perfection.

“I love you,” you whispered, running a gentle hand through his soft hair.

He leaned into the contact, sighing out an “I love you” while simultaneously pulling you closer to his chest.

He stepped back, admiring you once more. You couldn’t help but blush under his sweet gaze, arms folded across your chest as you let him finish his examination. He could feel his pulse rise at the sight of you. It wasn’t as if you were trying to allure him. No, far from it. You were making pancakes; a smudge of batter on your cheek, your hair in disarray, and bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. You wore an old pair of shorts that had a whole in the right pocket and his grimy jacket. Your moves were uncoordinated with the music, the nod of your head completely off the beats, yet still, he had never seen a sight so perfect.

He sighed to himself, knowing that this was it. This was the moment he was waiting for.

With a small, shy smile, Jack dropped to one knee.


	8. Until Morning (Gabriel Reyes x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Gabriel knew that war was coming.

A rift between him and Jack had been growing ever since Jack had been named Strike Commander. As time grew, it only got worse. The feud would be coming to a head soon, he had no doubt.

His stance was tense as he looked out the big window in his room, his eyes unseeing of the night sky. Instead, he saw destruction, chaos, and even death. Those who agreed with him were preparing for a fight. He knew they wouldn’t be disappointed.

A knock resounded through his room, snapping him out of his reverie. He narrowed his eyes, walking cautiously to the door. Had Morrison caught wind of his plan?  
He released a breath when he saw you standing on the other side, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Gabe,” you teased.

The worry on Gabriel’s face dissipated, his gaze softening.

“It’s Gabriel,” he reminded you with an eye roll, opening the door a little more so you could come in.

You were an asset to Overwatch, one they used many a time. Being so, you’d never really been into formality. Though, Gabriel had a feeling you only gave him that nickname to get on his nerves. By the way his heart sped the slightest bit when he heard the word slip from your sweet lips, he didn’t think it worked.

“I’ve been talking to some friends of yours recently,” you mentioned, taking note of how bare his room looked.

“And?” He gestured for you to continue, leaning on his desk and pushing his chair towards you with a swift kick.

“They said you’ve been really stressed lately. Naturally, I told them it’s not my problem, but they insisted I come talk to you.”

Gabriel snorted a laugh, admiring your features with gentle eyes. The dim light outlined the slope of your nose and the soft curves of your lips. He found himself drawn to them.

“So, what’s up, Gabe?” You asked with a smile on your face, though Gabriel hinted a bit of seriousness in your tone.

He wouldn’t tell you about his plan. He’d never drag you into this. Instead, he shrugged.

“Struggles of the job, I guess.”

“I bet,” you agreed, laying a friendly hand on his knee.

Gabriel’s gaze zeroed in on it, his heart pumping faster. Unable to help it, he laid his, much larger, hand atop yours. He watched your throat bob with a swallow, tongue peeking out to wet your lips.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted lowly, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle onto your hand.

He heard your breath hitch, your eyes a shade darker than normal.

“Yeah, no problem,” you said breathlessly.

Gabriel, deciding to take a chance, considering it may very well be his last night on Earth, leaned forward.

“Would you mind,” he began, sliding off his desk and bending down, his face dangerously close to yours.  
“If I kissed you?”

Shock registered in your eyes, Gabriel unable to pull his gaze from you. You nodded the smallest bit, lids closing in anticipation. Gabriel managed a small smile before his lips were on yours.

They were so smooth, he noted. He could faintly taste mint from your toothpaste. Your hands slowly wrapped around his neck, pulling him down a fraction more. Gabriel didn’t need any more assurance. His tongue lightly prodded your lips, begging for entrance. You granted him with an adorable little hum.

He took his time really exploring every inch of your mouth, your your hair as leverage, pulling away only when his lungs burned for air. He was breathing heavily, watching your chest move up and down to accommodate your lungs. Your lips were a bright pink and swollen, your eyes dark, and your hair a mess. Gabriel couldn’t stop himself.

He swooped in for another kiss, taking no time in battling your tongue with his own. He scooped you out of the chair with two strong arms, throwing the chair aside with a hard kick. It crashed to the ground, though neither of you took notice. Your fingers were tugging at his hair, shoving the beanie to the ground so you could have a better grip. Gabriel growled when you tugged hard.

He was at the bed in three steps, lying you down rather roughly and climbing atop. His lips didn’t leave yours once during the whole action. His calloused hands were wandering the planes of your body, tracing every curve with absolute pleasure. You pulled away from his mouth for a moment, needing air. Gabriel’s lips latched onto your neck, biting and licking his way around your clavicle.

“Gabe,” you moaned, tugging sharply on his hair.

He choked a groan, his fingers slipping beneath your shirt. He wasted no time in disposing of it, the white fabric landing somewhere near the bed. When he pulled away to admire his work, you grabbed a hold of his pants. He ground his teeth when you traced his ever-growing erection with a single digit.

Your little hands snapped open his pants, sneaking their way under his briefs to touch his hot member. His hips surged into your hand, a low noise emanating from his chest.

“(Y/N),” he breathed, leaning away from you so he could properly remove you of your clothing.

He pulled the leggings that he’d definitely dreamed about one time or another off of your legs, bringing your panties with it. You were holding yourself up on your elbows, watching with lust blown eyes. Gabriel moaned at the sight of you almost completely bare, with the marks he’d left welling over your chest.

He crawled back up your body, kissing the underside of your jaw softly as he removed your bra with one hand, flicking it off somewhere he didn’t care to look. Another kiss was placed to your lips before he pulled away, his eyes tracing every inch of your exposed body. The blush that began to spread from your cheeks set his skin on fire.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this?” He inquired breathlessly, peeling his black shirt off his chest.

He finished tugging down his pants and briefs as you replied.

“Guess you should’ve said something earlier, Gabe,” you teased, laying your head back in anticipation as you waited for him to finish undressing.

“Guess I should have,” he muttered, holding his nude self above you so your chests were just mere inches away.

Unable to stop yourself, you admired every inch of Gabriel. Strength exuded from each defined muscle, and you found yourself wondering about every one of his scars. Then, your gaze found his erection. You audibly swallowed.

Gabriel smirked at your reaction, mirth in his eyes when you looked back up. Gabriel was more than aware of his size, and he had a feeling you’d be absolutely satisfied with it.

“Okay,” you trailed off, cheeks flushed.

Your words turned into a sweet moan when Gabriel bit your pulse point softly. His lips didn’t stop there, making a sloppy trail as he stopped at your breast, one hand holding the other as he took a nipple into his mouth. Arousal ran down his spine at the absolutely glorious noise you made in response.

He left with a parting kiss, continuing his journey downward with a few more bites, his fingers ghosting up the inside of your thighs. You were practically shaking with anticipation. Gabriel finally made it to the point of your frustration, a wicked grin on his features.

His darkened gaze met yours as he lick one long stroke up, his hands physically restraining your hips. Your needy breaths spurred him forward, his tongue moving deftly around your clit. One hand moved away from your hips, two fingers slipping into your sex.

A strangled moan left your lips, your hands bunching his sheets together as you felt yourself reaching a high.

Gabriel curled his fingers inside you, twisting his tongue around as he did so. He continued faster at your pleasant noises, not giving your mind a second to rest. Your hips were bucking upwards as orgasm was fast approaching, your thoughts an absolute mess on anything outside of Gabriel.

“G-Gabriel,” you moaned loudly, your voice fading as you reached the peak.

Your body shook with pleasure, mind going blank as waves washed over your body. For a second, it was absolute bliss, then you slowly came back to reality.

Gabriel rode out your high with a few more licks, pulling away when your legs clenched together, your eyes wide open and his name on your swollen lips. He smirked, taking his digits into his mouth and licking them clean. You’d finally managed to look down at him. His lips were wet, though he made quick work of licking them, a wild look in his eyes.

He took position above you again, poising himself at your aching center. Gently, he kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips, your hands on his back.  
“Can I?” He asked, not daring to move a muscle.

You nodded quickly, desperately, needing to feel him inside. He slowly pushed himself in, inch by agonizing inch, watching as your eyes rolled back. He gave you a moment, whispering sweet praises in your ear and nipping at the earlobe before he began moving.

He set a brutal pace, chasing his own orgasm. It began precise, each stroke perfectly coordinated, but became sloppy at the feel of you. You were so warm, so tight. Gabriel’s breathing picked up, his eyes closed at the feeling enveloping his body. His deft fingers found your clit, rubbing with harsh pressure.

He was feral in his grunts, his movements spurred on by your broken moans. Your fingers were digging into his back, scraping all the way down. The pain mixed with his pleasure felt good, his hips speeding up. You met him thrust for thrust, your body quaking with another orgasm right on the edge.

“Gabriel!” You shouted, tightening around him as the world around you shut down.

Pleasure rippled through you, your body tightening as it reached a new high.

Gabriel felt your heat tighten around him, a growl on his lips as he pumped himself inside a few more times. The little feeling that had been growing came flooding through like a broken dam, his hot seed spilling deep inside you as he breathed your name.

Pleasure pulsed through his body, his eyes rolling back as he barely held himself up.

He breathed heavily, waiting a moment for the blissful feeling to die down before he dropped down beside you, not even caring about the bodily fluids that dripped onto his sheets.

“Gabe,” you whispered, rolling over to meet his eyes.

A soft smile was on his face, his fingers running down your face.

“(Y/N),” he replied just as gently, his eyes shining with adoration.

The both of you just stared at one another for a moment, basking in each other’s presence. Gabriel had been the first one to get up. He retrieved some tissues to clean up, before asking if you’d stay for the night. You’d agreed.

Gabriel watched you as you drifted off to sleep, your head on his chest. Sometime, early in the morning, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he said aloud, for the first time and the last.

His heart broke as he got to his feet, ready to face Morrison.


	9. Hit the Showers (Soldier: 76 x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

He was staring again.

It wasn’t like he could help it much, his eyes just tended to gravitate towards you when you were in the room. He watched longingly as you stretched your back, pushing your chest to the air.

His mouth watered.

Normally, he’d have his visor to cover where his eyes were, but lately, he’d been taking it off for training. Unconsciously, he wished he’d brought it with him.

The air conditioner in the base was down for the day and the summer heat had begun to wear on all of you. Training was something that you took very seriously, evidently, as all of the others had ran off for a lake day. Naturally, Jack had stayed behind too.

He couldn’t help but be glad he did when you bent over, touching your toes to stretch your legs.

You were in short spandex, ones that clung to you like a second skin, and Jack’s pants were getting more uncomfortable by the second.

“Want to spar?”

It took him a second to realize what you’d said, but after a moment he hummed. He’d been to busy watching the slight sway of your hips as you leaned over.

“Want to spar with me?” You asked again, standing back to your full height.

Wordlessly, Jack nodded.

Your smile was worth any discomfort he might have while attempting to pin you to the ground. He couldn’t help but shiver in delight at the thought of having you beneath him.

As soon as the sweet thought came, reality came crashing down when you lifted your shirt from your back and tossed it into the corner. You were clad in spandex and a sports bra, something Jack felt his body reacting to rather quickly. He was painfully hard and the soft little sigh you made at being rid of another garment made it worse.

An ache was growing in his belly, and he found his fingers twitching with the desire to hold you to the ground as he fucked you relentlessly. Your body was already flushed and sticky with sweat. He imagined what effect his actions would have on it. Maybe you’d arch your back and the red that came with exhaustion would spread.

“Don’t take it easy on me,” you teased.

Jack almost groaned.

He would most definitely not take it easy on you. Especially after the amount of frustration you’d been causing him since he first laid eyes on you.

Your hand caught him off guard, wrapping around his neck. One leg swung out, ready to send him reeling to the ground. He caught himself, countering your leg with a knee. The action sent pain down a certain anatomical part, one which he was cursing indefinitely at the moment.

“Damn,” you muttered, eyes narrowing the slightest bit as you sized him up once more.

He liked having your eyes on him.

“You’re distracted,” Jack tutted, knowing that he was far more in that direction than you were. He couldn’t resist a jab, though.

He’d been expecting a reply, not your hand. Naturally, instinct took over and he ducked, only to be met with your knee. It nearly hit him somewhere he definitely didn’t want to take a hit to right now, instead finding purchase among his ribs. The pressure had him doubling over, something you took advantage of.

Your leg hooked around his, sending you both to the ground, connected at the hips.

He froze when he saw your eyes widened.

Guilt ran down the length of his spine as he refused to meet your eyes. He was so ashamed that he was unable to keep thoughts like that out of his head. He tried so hard to, but they would never stay down for long. He hated it.

“I-”

“It’s-”

You both quieted, watching one another with bated breaths. You eventually sighed, sagging into his contact the slightest bit.

“That was… unexpected,” you admitted lightly.

He couldn’t gauge much from your reaction, though you hadn’t started shoving him away and yelling at him, so that was a good sign.

“(Y/N),” he began, unable to even form something that seemed adequate.

He let his head fall to the side, heat creeping up his neck as his eyes sealed shut. He was formulating a response, flexing his muscles tight so they wouldn’t react as you leaned above him.

“I’ll be honest, Jack,” you drawled, something amiss in your tone.

Your voice was lower, and he had an inclination to meet your gaze. Your eyes were a shade darker, lashes fluttering softly as you ran your fingers up his arm, grinding your front down against his. He groaned, long and low, as pleasure kissed his spine at the contact.

“I was hoping this would happen eventually.”

You continued before he could even open his mouth to reply.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the looks, Jack,” you said breathily, nipping at his ear with each word. “Or the little problem that arises.”

The statement was accentuated with a roll of your hips, providing sweet, sweet friction. Jack watched with lidded eyes as you sat back, straddling his waist.

“Though I suppose it’s time to go,” you shrugged, leaving an open invitation.

Jack took the bait.

“You can shower with me,” he offered, far more confident than he felt.

His nerves were alight with your touch, and he honestly didn’t know what else to expect from you. All he knew was that his appendage between his legs was burning for attention and one of the two of you were going to take care of it in the shower.

You hummed softly, a sly smirk on your features.

“Perhaps,” you whispered, leaving Jack disoriented on the ground.

He took a moment to recollect himself, stalking off in search of the shower before he could even begin to comprehend what your reply had meant. The cool air felt good against his nude body as he stood underneath a warm stream of water. He stared straight ahead, mulling over possibilities as his fingers encompassed his length, absentmindedly working towards sating his frustrations.

He stopped a moan of your name from slipping past his lips, his eyes slamming shut as he worked himself faster. Pleasure began building low in his gut, his abs tightening as he felt that familiar pull.

“Getting started without me,” you tsked, causing Jack to jump.

He lifted his hands, a fiery red on his cheeks as he breathed heavily. There you were, clad in nothing more than a little white towel, your eyes a touch darker than normal and your hair just a little mussed. Your tongue was between your teeth in a teasing manner as you stretched backwards, giving Jack an ample view of your cleavage.

He swallowed, fixing his stance to look a little more confident. Water was dripping down his body, his arousal on full display, as well as the rest of him. His hair clung to his head, a hand momentarily causing it to stand up before the stream brought it back down. His heavy exhale was lost in the steam that’d begun to roll upwards, his muscles tightening in anticipation.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” he admitted.

He thought he was being too forward, that maybe he’d scared you away. He was way out of line, after all, but he supposed you’d been asking for it when you lowered your voice and rubbed up against him.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Whatever eloquent response Jack was going to say died in his throat at the audible thud of your towel hitting the ground. His eyes nearly hurt from the strain of trying to flit around your body and take it all in like he’d never see it again. Your posture exude power, while your beauty demanded attention. He drank in every curve, every minor imperfection, ever scar, and every mark.

You were beautiful.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you joked, stepping in beside him.

You paused.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll take one for you later.”

You’d winked, a smirk on your lips as a hand crawled up his chest, tugging on his hair. He chuckled breathlessly.

“You’re adding fuel to the fire,” he muttered, keeping his fingers on his thighs.

He waited a beat, wondering what you’d do next. You didn’t keep him waiting long, however, your hands pulling his head towards yours. You met in the middle, crashing your lips to his with as much force as you could muster. Water ran between you, connecting at your lips as Jack’s hands gripped onto your hips.

He pulled you flush against him, his tongue demanding entrance. No sooner had you granted it did he have you pushed up against the shower wall, one hand on your ass, forcing your leg to wrap around his hips. His erection prodded against your abdomen, just begging for attention. You didn’t disappoint.

You pulled your leg out of Jack’s grasp, moaning his name lowly as he began to pepper kisses along your neck, sucking when he hit a particularly sensitive part. In retaliation, your dainty fingers wrapped along his length, tentatively stroking.

He bucked his hips into your hand, groaning all the while. He’d spent too long dreaming about this that he knew he would never last. He was doomed from the start. Already, he began to feel the pleasure build, making a slow crawl up his spine to the ultimate high.

Your increased the speed, gripping a little more firmly as you watched his face for the reactions. Precum dripped down the tip, your thumb swiping it up as you continued your ministrations. Jack noticed the pride in your eyes as he began to fall apart, cursing himself in his head. He couldn’t stop though, too lost in the feeling.

“Fuck,” he growled, roughly pulling on your hair.

You moaned in response, pumping faster and bringing him closer to the high. Slowly, the world began to grow darker as he approached his limit. His chest heaved, legs shaking with the effort of keeping him standing. With a shout of your name, he hit his peak. He threw his head back, the water nearly drowning him as he tried to regain his breath. He felt numb, his body refusing to calm down.

“That was hot,” you whispered, nipping at his ear.

He stiffened, vaguely aware that despite just having finished, he was already ready for round two.

Your eyes widened at the sight.

“Really?”

He shrugged, a lazy smile on his face.

“Whatever they pumped into me all those years ago really did a great deal for my stamina,” he teased, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Well,” you drawled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “How about we finish showering and then head to your room?”

He chuckled, hoping that this never ended.

“Can’t argue with that.”


	10. Happy Birthday (Pre-Fall Jack Morrison x Reader)

Today was the day.

While Jack found pleasure in a great deal of things, none made him quite as happy as the date of today. It was, after all, what he’d spent months of research looking for. He waited impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground as his eyes scanned the cafeteria. It was in the early hours of the morning, far before anyone else was up, but Jack knew you’d be here.

For the past several months, you two had fallen into a routine of eating breakfast together before the rest of the agents were up and about. One day, on the day Jack finally had mustered up some courage, he slyly mentioned getting drinks sometime, you know, like a date. You’d got that infamous little smirk of yours, the one that just begged for trouble, your eyes twinkling bright.

“Ask me again on my birthday and I might take you up on it,” you’d said, challenge in your voice.

Jack had replied with a, “maybe I will,” before departing.

Ever since the conversation, he’d searched through file after file to no avail. As Strike Commander of Overwatch, he had many resources, but even with all the possibilities under his fingertips, he couldn’t manage to find a single date. That was, until he’d gone around the system.

He’d asked Angela casually, nothing more than a, “hey, what should I get for (Y/N)’s birthday?”

When he saw Angela’s brows furrow, he knew he must’ve got something.

“It’s not for a few more months,” she’d shrugged. “Why are you getting a gift so early?”

Jack smiled.

Jackpot.

“I must’ve got the dates wrong,” Jack feigned concern, his jaw dropping a bit to seem more convincing. “I thought it was next week.”

Mercy laughed and corrected him. Jack smiled.

He knew he’d catch you off guard when he asked you once more. His heart sped up at the thought of you accepting his proposal. He’d been trying to win your affections for so long.

“What are you doing up so early?” You teased, sticking your tongue at the Strike Commander.

His heart melted at the sight of your sleepy eyes and messy hair. You must’ve gotten up a little later than anticipated, but Jack didn’t mind.

“It’s nice, you should try it,” Jack suggested, a smile on his lips.

You dropped yourself by his side, snuggling into your over-sized sweatshirt as you did so. Jack slid a drink to your hands, the warmth crawling up your arms as you breathed in the sweet smell.

“I was hoping to ask,” Jack began, barely able to keep the excitement out of his tone.

This was it. He was finally going to get an answer to whether you wanted to go on a date with him or not.

You hummed, waiting for him to continue as you took small sips of your drink, relishing the warm feel as it slid down your throat.

“Did you want to go out for drinks tonight?”

Though fear lingered in his mind, curling around his consciousness like a vine, he didn’t let the soft, carefree expression leave his face. He kept his composure, his fingers running through his blonde locks as he awaited your reply.

“I thought I said to ask me again on my birthday,” you said, playing it off with another swallow of your drink.

That didn’t deter Jack in the slightest.

“I am,” he leaned forward on his forearms, looking you straight in the eye, “Happy birthday, by the way.”

You spluttered a cough, cheeks heating up. He looked so confident, so bold, like the leader in him was demanding attention.

“Okay,” you rasped, managing to catch your breath. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Jack puffed out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Right,” he nodded, “tonight.”


	11. A Trip Through Time (Soldier: 76 x Reader)

Overwatch had seen its fair share of mysteries over the years. Some were good, some were bad, but none of them were so crazy that the agents didn’t know how to react.

Before the fall, Jack was sure there was some kind of protocol to handle what had taken place, but this was after. While Winston had recalled the agents of Overwatch, the formality that had held the program together no longer stuck. It was just a band of misfits that decided to call each other family and be heroes. There was no protocol.

“Silence?” The soft voice had inquired, though there was a bit of a bite to it.

He looked down at you with narrowed eyes behind the visor. Even Winston looked floored by the anomaly.

The team had been preparing for a mission, an all hands on deck sort of thing. They’d gathered in the conference room of one of the old abandoned watch points. Before they’d even managed to explain the mission, a peculiar sound interrupted them.

You’d come stumbling through the door, your eyes wide and you held both hands up.

“You’re not going to believe what I just saw,” you’d said, laughter on your tongue.

But then you’d looked up and noticed the people around you. Obviously, it was who you were expecting. Without hesitation, you’d dropped to the ground, fidgeting with something on your wrist.

“Damn thing,” you’d muttered, the whole of the newly recalled Overwatch staring at you.

They didn’t know what to think, and apparently, neither did you ask you’d asked, “Silence?”

Jack cleared his throat, lifting his rifle a little higher.

“Who are you?”

His voice was low, suspicion heavy in his tone.

“Calm down, Robocop,” you mumbled, the watch beneath your fingers beeping to life.

“Aha, easy does it, right?”

Jack looked to Winston, his brow raised.

“Now listen, we don’t want any trouble we-”

“Trouble?” You piped up, jumping to your feet with newfound excitement. “If it’s trouble you’re looking for, I know just the place.”

“What?” Tracer had sped forward, looking down over your shoulder at the watch you were wearing.

“Curious little one, aren’t you?” You asked, shielding your prized possession from her prodding eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Ana bit out, curt and to the point as she’d always been.

“Not sure, actually,” you admitted, a wolfish grin on your lips.

Jack would be lying if he said that didn’t look good on you.

“Truth is, my aim isn’t the greatest sometimes.”

You shrugged, finally taking a moment to truly examine your surroundings. Your eyes went from agent to agent, marveling at the difference between them.

“Wow,” you breathed out, “Planet of the Apes?”

Winston blinked, an indignant frown on his face.

“I am a scientist,” he suggested.

“Really?” You inquired, eyeing Jack with particular interest.

The way you sized him up made him shift uncomfortably. Your eyes were definitely raking down his body a little too slowly.

“Clint Eastwood!” You shouted, your finger in McCree’s direction.

You followed it, skipping over to the cowboy. Jack’s heart deflated a little bit. For some reason, he actually enjoyed the attention you’d given him.

“What’s your name?” You asked, pointing to yourself. “I’m (Y/N).”

McCree chuckled, his charm not wavering the slightest, even in the presence of a stranger.

“Jesse McCree, darlin’,” he introduced, a dazzling smile hiding under the hat.

“Cool name for a cowboy,” you smiled, your eyes already on the next person.

Genji shied away from your attention, lowering his gaze.

“Neat armor,” you praised, sidling on up between him and Hanzo. “And the bow, I like it.”

Both had side-eyed you, though neither looked particularly pleased at your observation.

“Tough crowd, eh?” You nudged Mercy in the side, your grin getting wider when she nodded.

“You have no idea,” she sighed.

You nodded, moving down the line.

“Iron-Man vibes, I’m digging it,” you said, stopping by Pharah. “And look at you, Elsa!”

Mei giggled, though she didn’t fully grasp your reference. The two on the end caught your eye, their poses more casual and less static.

“Life of the party over here,” you giggled, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back.

D.Va blinked, looking back to Winston for answers. He shrugged.

“Again,” the Robocop-esque guy asked, taking a menacing step forward. “Who are you?”

“You don’t remember?” You took a step up to him, head cocking to the side.

“Remember what exactly?” Mercy piped up.

“Oh,” you breathed, chin in hand as you looked down. “Oh.”

You snapped your fingers, driving a finger into Jack’s chest.

“I know why,” you nodded to yourself, obviously having some sort of inner monologue.

Jack looked to his friends, not understanding exactly what was transpiring in front of him. As soon as he turned back, he was wrapped in your warm embrace. He was glad he had the mask on, otherwise his very visible blush would be on full display. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to pull you away, despite being a complete stranger. You just felt so pure and so familiar.

“Sorry, Jack,” you whispered, the shock that registered on his face hidden. “Wrong place, wrong time, you know how it is.”

You leaned up, your soft lips pressing to his forehead.

“It’s been too damn long, you know?”

And with a flash, you disappeared. Jack blinked.

“That just happened, right?” Lúcio asked, slowly pulling out of his stance.

“It did,” Ana nodded, watching Jack closely.

He didn’t move a muscle, just stood still as he watched the empty space before him.

While he didn’t fully understand what had transpired then, he had one hell of a feeling he’d find out soon enough.


	12. It's Not Easy... (Soldier: 76 x Reader)

It’d been a unanimous decision that it was time for a vacation. Tensions had been running high and exhaustion was not in short supply. Among the places that everyone had thrown out, Italy seemed to stick.

That’d been a week ago.

Now, the recalled agents of Overwatch were all unpacking and exploring the villa that would be home for the next week. It was secluded and had a beautiful view of the ocean. Jack had been among the first to finish unpacking, though he didn’t bother bringing all that many belongings to begin with. Not like D.Va, who’d brought her entire gaming setup, despite being explicitly told the ship had limited room.

“It’s nice here,” Ana commented, walking into Jack’s room announced.

He didn’t seem to care that much, taking a seat on his balcony. His room was facing the ocean, a soft breeze blowing his hair. He hummed in acknowledgement.

“You know, some would say it was even romantic,” Ana hinted, raising a brow.

She leaned back against the door, her arms crossed over her chest. She noted his room was bare, as it always seemed to be.

“Not this again,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair.

His feet rested lightly on the table, eyes narrowed as he looked out into the sunny sky.

“I’m just saying,” Ana began, nodding her head in the direction of your room a few doors down. “Now would be the perfect time.”

Jack sighed lowly, a hand running down his face. He knew being silent about his feelings would do no good, but he was a damn coward when it came to admitting his love.

“Think on it,” Ana suggested, leaving him to his own devices.

The corner of his lips turned up as he inhaled the fresh summer breeze. Maybe now was a good time. You were on vacation, after all. He wouldn’t have to worry about compromising a mission or bad timing. It would be perfect.

Fear crept in his expression. He didn’t dare to think how heartbroken he’d be if you denied his affection. Truth was, since meeting you months before the recall, Jack had been smitten. You were so caring and so reliable. He fell in love with your smile and you’re little laugh. He fell in love with the way you always made sure he was safe before worrying about yourself, or the way you made even the most mundane acts fun.

He fell in love with you.

You knocked softly on his door, his head turning so fast you briefly wondered if it’d given him whiplash.

“Uh, Jack?”

“Hey,” he said softly, gesturing for you to come on in.

“This is kind of embarrassing,” you mumbled, a sheepish smile on your face. “But did you happen to bring an extra beach towel? I forgot mine.”

He chuckled softly.

“I only brought one, but we can share,” he shrugged, noting the way your cheeks turned a brilliant pink.

He loved that about you too.

“I don’t plan on getting in the water too much,” he admitted.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you like that, Jack.”

Your gaze fell to the floor. Jack loved how shy you’d get when you got embarrassed.

“No inconvenience at all,” he promised, giving you a goofy grin.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t not smile at you. You were just so adorable and so thoughtful. He nearly sighed at how foolish he was acting.

“Okay,” you agreed hesitantly, “thank you!”

“No problem,” he breathed, his eyes watching every inch of you.

You were smiling now, one that managed to hitch his breathing, your eyes twinkling so bright. Jack couldn’t help but think he’d never seen a more beautiful sight, even with the breathtaking scenery outside.

You gave him a little wave, one he found absolutely endearing, turning to walk away. You’d made it to the door when Jack called after you.

“Oh, and (Y/N),” he said bravely.

“Yeah?” You inquired sweetly, a soft smile on your face.

Jack’s heart froze.

“Uh, never mind,” he waved you off with a little smile.

As soon as you were gone, he sighed, cursing himself for not saying anything more. Oh well, he’d tell you this week, and he was sure he’d have plenty of opportunities. 

How wrong he’d been.

His unlucky streak began a few hours after you’d asked about a towel. He’d been planning a dinner for the two of you where he could confess. Jack spent two hours preparing the meal and cooking everything to perfection. When he left to go get you, he returned to empty plates and a sheepish Reinhardt.  
He’d kept his cool then, knowing that he still had more opportunities.

The next time he’d thought he could sing you a song. It’d be simple and sweet, yet still get the point across. Lucio had stumbled into the room where he’d been setting up the speaker and mistook it for a surprise dance party. Needless to say, he took complete charge, sidelining Jack.

Frustration rose, but he managed to keep it down.

Then, Jack got a little more creative. He planned an entire night out, complete with reservations. While on his way to knock on your door, dressed in a suit, Angela had run smack dab into him. She raised her plastic gun, proclaimed “water gun fight” and continued to spray him until he was completely drenched. He sighed, eyes downcast as he ran back to his room to change. Dawning a new, but no less classy, outfit, he made it back to your door, only for Hana to yell at him, saying it was a girl’s night and no guys were allowed.

He was so damn annoyed by now. He just wanted to tell you how much he loved you.

The following morning, he’d marched himself to your room, ready to just say it. He didn’t bother knocking, hoping to just get it over with before someone or something else interrupted him. Determination had blinded him apparently, as you stood before him completely naked, your eyes wide. Jack had stopped short, choking on his cough as he froze, his eyes definitely not on yours.

“Jack,” you had said, causing him to snap to his senses.

He instantly turned away, heat crawling up his neck as he stared at your door.

“Sorry, I, uh, I didn’t realize you weren’t in any, uh…”

You’d laughed a little, throwing on a towel before asking him why he’d come in. He feigned forgetting the reason and getting the hell out of there as fast as he could.

Later that evening, he’d asked you on a walk in hopes of apologizing and maybe even confessing. Once you’d both gotten past the awkwardness, he worked up the courage to tell you.

“(Y/N), I wa-”

His voice was cut off as he hit the ground, his foot getting caught between two rocks. You’d tried to free him of it, but you weren’t nearly strong enough and Jack wasn’t at the right angle to be able to try. So, he’d been forced to sit in embarrassment as you ran off in search of Reinhardt. He’d never hated nature more than in that moment.

After that, while the whole crew was having a late night get together on the beach, Jack had waved you over.

This is it, he thought.

He asked you to take a seat by the fire, him standing in front of you.

“I’ve just been meaning to say,” he began, heart pounding against his chest.

He was heating up. In fact, he would even go as far as to say he felt like he was on fire.

“Uh, Jack,” you said, your voice a little distant.

“Yeah?” He inquired, ready to spill his thoughts.

“Your shorts are on fire.”

His eyes widened as he ran around disposing of his cargo shorts. He apologized, sprinting back to his room with red cheeks and underwear to match.

The next day, he didn’t even bother trying to do anything, accepting that fate just didn’t want this for him. He’d been lying in the sun, watching you from afar as you ran around in a bikini that made his heart race, a smile never once straying from your face.

“You know,” Genji had said, taking a seat next to Jack.

Jack had side-eyed him, but didn’t comment.

“Simple is sometimes better.”

Jack sighed, nearly laughing in frustration.

“I’ve tried everything,” he bit out, patience wearing thin.

He just wanted you to know so damn badly. Any hesitations faded away, replaced with frustration.

“Try this,” Genji offered, a bouquet of roses in his hand.

Jack was about to ask where he even got it, but decided against it. Instead, he took the flowers, one side of his lips turned up.

“Thanks,” he said, though he was still a little wary.

He hid the bouquet behind his back, approaching you carefully. He avoided getting too close to the water, knowing with his luck lately, something bad would happen.

“(Y/N),” he called, pulling your attention away from Hana.

You tuned on his almost immediately, your smile growing just a little more.

“Jack!” You replied, jogging up to him.

While this wasn’t exactly how he envisioned this going, he couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of you maybe returning his feelings.

“I have something for you,” he said a little shyly, pulling the flowers from behind his back.

As he did, the water that had kept them alive came splashing down onto Jack’s face, covering him. You held your giggle behind your hand, accepting his gift. He sighed, loud and long.

“I just love you, okay?” Jack admitted, silencing your laughs immediately.

Your back straightened, eyes widening as you listened to Jack.

“Apparently the universe doesn’t want me to tell you, based off these last couple of days. It’s been one disaster after another and I just really want you to kn-”

You cut him off with your lips on his, smiling into the kiss. You could feel him mimic the action, his hands tentatively coming to rest on your hips. After a moment, you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“I love you too, Jack,” you breathed, your fingers on his cheek.

His heart burst with happiness, all the tension of the past few days slowly fading away.

Ana watched from afar, smirking. Of course she’d been right, it only took him embarrassing himself countless times to realize it.


	13. Nothing Quite Like It (Jesse McCree x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are all from my tumblr @talesfromthepayload. Requests are actually closed for the moment, but when they're open, that's where you can drop them at!

The exhaustion had begun to settle in Jesse’s muscles as he walked back to your room. Truth was, Jesse had been more than ready to get back. He missed his babies.  
His steps were quick as he ducked through the hallways. Unconsciously, he remembered a time when he’d been walking the same route, nerves slowing his strides. He was going to ask you on a date all those years ago. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. Even after all the tragedies that followed, from the fall of Overwatch to the recall, he knew he’d made the right decision that night that seemed so long ago.

From outside the door, he could hear sweet laughter. He could hear that tiny little voice that never failed to melt his heart.

He didn’t bother knocking, too eager to see his family. When he opened the door, two pairs of eyes went to him: the eyes of the one he fell in love with, and the eyes of the one he’d love until the end of time.

“Jesse,” your soft voice had called.

Atop your chest was your little girl, her curly brown hair bouncing as she saw her dad. You always did say she got those wild chestnut locks from him.

“Daddy!” She called excitedly, the word a little broken from her lack of grasping the language.

Her tiny body slid from your embrace, two little feet padding on the ground as she ran to her father.

Jesse smiled, a grin that could rival the sun, as he held his little girl. Her head rested against the crook of his neck as she held on as tight as she could. Jesse’s heart squeezed in his chest, he’d never felt so much love.

Two arms wrapped around his neck, your warm lips on his cheek.

“Hi, honey,” you breathed, nipping at his ear.

He missed you both so much.

“She’s been waiting all night,” you explained, gesturing to your daughter which had managed to fall asleep in her father’s arms already.

“Hope,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss atop her head.

He gently rocked his baby girl, holding her to his chest as he walked his girl to her bed. She was almost two, yet she was still so tiny. He could remember the first time he laid eyes on her, watching as her little form squirmed around, little cries heaving from her chest. You’d had tears running down your cheeks, your face flushed from exhaustion, but you held out to see your baby girl.

The doctor congratulated him, passing him the little baby wrapped in a pink blanket. He didn’t remember when he started crying, but he couldn’t stop, his heart overflowing with joy as he dropped by your side, your daughter held reverently in his arms. He hugged you, sharing the embrace with your daughter.

That’s when he knew his purpose in life. He’d fight to make the world a better place for his daughter, and he’d fight with his love by his side.

Since the recall of Overwatch, he fought harder than ever to ensure justice prevailed. He’d watched you fight too, your eyes just a little more determined than they had been before the birth of your little girl.

Jesse placed her in her bed, his finger lingering on her cheek. He’d been away for almost two weeks and it’d begun to hurt. He hated being away from you two. His gaze went from Hope, to the monitor above her bed, to you.

You’d been watching him from the doorway, your arms crossed over your chest and a small smile on your lips. He smiled back, slipping from the room and shutting the door softly behind him.

“I missed you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

He released a long breath, tugging you to his chest. Jesse swayed you back and forth, his whole body embracing you.

“I missed you too, darlin’,” he admitted, pressing his lips tightly to your forehead.

You leaned in against him, heart singing in your chest at the sight of your husband.

“What’s on your mind?” You inquired, nuzzling yourself into his contact.

He hummed, the low vibration cutting through the silence of the room. He was so content knowing that his baby girl was in the room next sound asleep, his beautiful love in his arms, yet something still nagged at the back of his mind. He’d been thinking it for awhile, but now he was too tired to keep his thoughts inside.

“Do you ever want another little one?” He asked, pulling back so he could meet your gaze.

You had frozen, mouth open a little bit like you were about to reply, but you shut it once more. You thought about it, smiling softly at the end.

“Sometimes, but then I think about everything that’s going on right now. We had Hope before the recall, could we really have a baby while we’re both active agents?”

Jesse swallowed that tidbit of information, but his feelings didn’t waiver.

“Yes, we could, because it’s who we are. There’s never going to be a better time.”

You met his eyes with intensity, watching as memory and emotion flitted by. He was strong, you were strong. Slowly, you nodded.

“One condition,” you teased, a smirk encompassing your lips.

“That is?”

“We’re trying tonight,” you said, voice full of seduction as you leaned in, a twinkle in your eyes.

He leaned forward, lips stopping an inch from yours. His breath ghosted along, kissing the soft skin.

“Many times.”


	14. While You're Gone (Jesse McCree x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

You dug yourself a grave you most decidedly were not ready to lay in.

It’d started off innocently enough, just a plea for him to stay in bed for a few more minutes so you could enjoy the comfort of his company before he had to leave for a mission. As time wore on, and the desperation for him to stay in bed grew, you resorted to cheap jibes and pouts.

When that failed to work, you pulled the last card you could.

“Who’s going to help me with my little problem when you’re gone?” You’d asked, face the picture of innocence.

“An’ what problem would that be, darlin’?” A knowing smirk lay on his lips, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“It just gets lonely without you here…. and sometimes…”

You’d been about to continue but a loud knock sounded on the door to your room. You glared in that direction, annoyed by the interruption.

“We don’t have all day, McCree.”

It was Ana, and you knew McCree respected her far too much to ignore her. You knew if it was Gabriel outside that door, Jesse would’ve stayed extra long just to piss him off.

Jesse sighed, offering you a sheepish grin as he lifted himself out of bed with a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, sugar, I’ll try to get back real soon.”

You turned to your side, a little smile on your lips as you watched him redress. He really was a sight to behold, and he damn well knew it.

“I’ll send you something nice to think about,” he decided, winking towards you.

“That’s not what I…”

But it was too late, Jesse was already gone. You dropped your head back into your pillow, cheeks red as you realized you’d definitely started something.

As the day passed and the next day came, you’d nearly forgotten all about it. Jesse had been talking to you since dinner, asking how things were and telling you about the mission. It was sweet that he’d taken time out of his day to call you.

“You lyin’ in bed?” McCree asked you suddenly, startling you out of your thoughts.

You stretched out on the fresh sheets, nodding before you realized he couldn’t see.

“Yeah,” you replied, stifling a yawn.

Gabriel had worked the hell out of you today. Your muscles were aching, McCree’s soft voice lulling you to sleep. Maybe, if you just drifted off…

The buzz of your phone had you jumping up in a start, a little gasp falling from your lips. McCree chuckled lowly at the noise.

“Rude,” you muttered, unlocking your phone when you saw it was a message from McCree.

Why would he message you if you guys were talking?

Oh.

_Oh._

Your cheeks turned a brilliantly red as you examined the picture McCree had sent you. It was his dick, perfectly hard and ready, while his hand held onto it like he was pleasuring himself.

You spluttered a cough as you thought about how smooth it was. Just like the rest of him.

“Jesse,” you warned, embarrassment in your tone.

“C’mon, honey, I’m missin’ you somethin’ awful,” he teased.

You could hear him shifting on his end, his breathing picking up. You could only assume that he was continuing what he’d started in the picture.

“Well,” you said awkwardly, “what am I supposed to do?”

Jesse chuckled again, his voice slippery smooth as he ended it with a groan.

“For starters, you can take your clothes off.”

With a little hesitation, you began to shed the layers of your pajamas. This was a little embarrassing, in your opinion. What if someone walked in? What is someone heard? (What if the NSA was listening?)

You threw the last of your garments onto the floor, watching it almost wistfully as Jesse’s breathing dramatically increased.

“Good, darlin’,” he whispered huskily.

You could tell he was working himself nice and good, his voice more slurred than normal.

“Touch yourself.”

You puffed a breath, fingers drumming along your thighs as you thought about it hesitantly. Heat was coiling in your stomach at the thought of what Jesse was doing. It was turning you on and you knew that it’d be easier to just find release, but you couldn’t help but feel awkward.

“It’s okay, honey,” Jesse assured, near breathless by now. “Just picture my hands there. Picture my fingers bringing you pleasure.”

That was definitely a pleasant scenario.

With a soft sigh, you dipped your fingers into your core. The feel brought a hiss to your lips. He’d turned you on so much already, you were aching for him.

“There you go,” he cooed, encouraging you as his own pace picked up.

You started moving your fingers in time with his breathing, one hand clutching your breast while the other pressed circles around your clit.

“Jesse,” you moaned out.

He groaned in response, stuttering out sinful promises as he continued.

“My tongue will do so much better when I see you next,” he whispered.

Your hips thrusted upwards at the dirty words. Already, you could feel the string of pleasure winding up. You were building towards your release fast, every word from Jesse’s mouth bringing you closer and closer.

“Jess,” you cried, trying to warn him.

“C’mon darlin’,” he said tightly.

You could hear he was close too, a curse on his tongue as he encouraged you to finish.

Jesse growled out your name, and that action coupled with your deft fingers brought you to your finish. Your body was shaking with pleasure, muscles tightening as you rubbed a few extra times, riding the waves. Jesse’s name was repeated over and over, as your eyes rolled back.

When you pulled your fingers away, you didn’t dare utter a word. Your cheeks were hot once more as you listened to Jesse’s heavy breathing.

“I can’t wait to be home,” Jesse finally said.

You puffed out a breath.

“Me either.”


	15. Time (Soldier: 76 x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of torture and such.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you’d last seen light, since you last saw a soft smile or heard sweet words. All you saw now was grim faces, impassive as they poured their being into hurting you. A lot of things had faded with time: your memory of the man you loved, your cries, your voice, but not pain- no, the pain could never fade.

You couldn’t remember a time before this life, only fleeting memories bubbled to the surface, blue eyes and wide smiles, before they were drowned by the grim reality.

Your view of the world had been reduced to four metal walls, growing closer by the day. If you thought on it hard, you could remember a day when your voice had bounced off of them, the shriek of a name falling from your lips.

_Jack._

It was hauntingly beautiful how the name could stir up nothing more than broken memories of shy glances and beating hearts.

One day- or perhaps it was night, you could never be too sure in the darkness of your cell- you recalled the man fondly. In your mind, you could see blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes. You’d been meaning to say something, though you couldn’t quite recall what, but you knew it was important.

That was before.

Your head rested on your knees, weak arms holding them to your chest. Your body was beaten and broken, scars of all sizes littering your skin. You were paler than normal, and your eyes were red. You wheezed in a breath, time ticking away as you sat still.

If someone were to look in, you’d probably look almost dead. You didn’t move much anymore. Any fight you’d had in you had dissipated long ago. All you could hope for was an end.

Time would trickle by in between sessions with your masked tormentors, their dark eyes reflecting cruelty as they found new and unusual ways to obtain information. You never gave them any, not because you didn’t have any to give, you just couldn’t.

Despite being broken in almost every sense of the word, something shielded the secrets to your mind, a wall keeping them from exposure. You were sure that you would die soon.

You felt something akin to hope at that. They’d stripped you of everything you were, and even if by some miracle you did find freedom, you knew you would never recover.

You would never be the same.

Distantly, you heard yelling. You figured it was another poor soul being drawn into the darkness, but you paid it no mind. It was not your business.

The sounds drew closer, your eyes moving from the ground to the door. There were no windows that provided insight, but you figured they were pretty close to your cell.

Perhaps they were here to finally kill you?

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. You waited patiently with heavy breaths, the pain in your ribs skittering down your spine. The last session hadn’t been as rough as normal, but you’d received a number of blows to the abdomen for not talking. You were just thankful it hadn’t been a water session.

“Check all the cells!” A voice yelled.

It sounded familiar, though a little more desperate than your mind could remember. Was this a rescue?

You squashed the thought before it could bloom. Hope was not something you cared to have anymore, it only brought disappointment and pain. Slinking back down on yourself, you tapped your fingers along your arm, waiting.

The door to your cell budged a little, a groan coming from the other side. They seemed to be pushing with effort. You watched with wide eyes.

Whoever was on the other side seemed about ready to give up. Curious, you got to your feet and crept to the door. Only a sliver was open, casting the smallest bit of light into your cell.

You looked through the crack, eyes adjusting to the brightness. Once it did, you noticed a blue eye looking directly into yours.

“(Y/N),” the voice breathed, efforts doubling as the door began opening wider.

You took three steps back, hands up as if to brace yourself. Your wheezing became louder, heart beating faster as air suddenly began too difficult to find.

“It’s okay, (Y/N),” the voice whispered, approaching you cautiously.

You tried to suck in a breath, stepping backwards until you collided with a wall. Your head was furiously shaking, tears falling from your eyes as the pain became unbearable. You were drowning, yet there was no water, and you couldn’t escape.

“Hey, hey,” he said.

Faintly, you could make out narrowed blue eyes and a pink frown. He looked so familiar, but your eyesight was beginning to blur, and you were sure this was it.

“It’s me,” he breathed, “It’s Jack.”

A silent whimpered past your lips as the tears began falling heavier. You dropped down to your knees, rocking slightly as you kept trying to breathe. It just wasn’t happening. Each intake felt like water was being sucked down. Your fingers reached out, pulling on the coat of the man before you.

Desperately, your mouth opened in a scream, but no noise left your lips.

“Medic!” You heard him shout, his voice distant yet his body so close.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay…”

Your eyes fell shut at that, body lurching forward as you lost control. Your body was falling towards the ground, mind darkening as it all narrowed to the feeling of pain.

Then, by some miracle, the pain faded, and you were gone.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Jack watched your limp body with an impassive expression. Your body had been in severe condition, and Angela had told him the chances of you surviving were not good. When he carried you to the drop-ship, he’d felt your heart stop. His had done the same.

You weren’t breathing when he yelled for Angela, searching through the agents with wild eyes. She’d appeared by his side, told him you had a collapsed lung, and prepped her equipment.

Everything else had passed in a blur.

For now, you were stable. Angela told him that you were going to survive just an hour prior.

“It’s not the physical injuries you should worry about, though,” she’d said. “She’s not going to be the same, Jack.”

Angela left him after that.

He’d been standing at your bedside, watching. The beep of your steady heartbeat kept his breathing normal. The crushing weight of guilt settled on his shoulders.

It’d taken nearly fourteen weeks to find you.

_Fourteen god damn weeks._

Jack had spent every waking moment looking for you, swearing to himself all the while. This was his fault. He was supposed to go on that mission. It should’ve been him.

He ran a finger through his blonde hair, his teeth grinding together.

It wasn’t fair, seeing you all broken, only to look in the mirror and see that he was absolutely okay. He hated himself for it.

He hated himself for the look that’d been on your face before you’d collapsed. You were so scared, so vulnerable. You weren’t you.

He wanted your sweet laughter back. He wanted your wide smiles and your gentle eyes, your soft words of encouragement.

He wanted you dammit.

Swallowing his guilt, he let his fingers brush against yours. Electricity sparked at the connection, as it always did when his skin ghosted along yours.

“Please,” he whispered, not quite sure what he was asking.

He just wanted you to open your eyes. You’d been unconscious for nearly a month. In that time, his life had been falling more and more apart. Gabriel and him were fighting nearly every day, the UN was breathing down his neck, and Ana…

“(Y/N), please…”

Jack held his composure, trying so hard not to break, but when his eyes found a particularly grueling scar where your shoulder met your neck, he dropped to his knees. His head rested in the crook of your neck, tears falling from his eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he cried, voice cracking.

He was bawling, sobs loud and desperate as he squeezed your hand in his.

“I love you,” he whispered brokenly.

He was dragging in breaths, his body wracking with cries. The tears didn’t subside as he continued, begging you to just wake up.

He felt you shift against him, your hand holding a little tighter. Surprised, he pulled back, red eyes meeting yours.

“(Y/N),” he mumbled, wiping furiously at his eyes.

You didn’t make a noise, half-lidded gaze curious. You looked so guarded, almost like a wild animal.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, “you’re home now.”

Your head tilted to the side, hand sliding from his as you looked down at it. You looked almost unfamiliar with yourself and it just about broke Jack’s heart. It’d probably been a long time since you’d seen light.

“Do you remember me?” He inquired softly, pulling his hand back towards himself.

He listened to your even breathing, comforted by the sound. His dreams had been haunted by the wheezing you’d made weeks prior.

Wordlessly, you nodded.

Jack found it curious, since before you’d been such a talkative person, but he figured that you were still in shock at the sudden change of scenery. Angela had come barging in after that, shooing him out as she examined her patient fully.

Jack wasn’t allowed back in to see you for some time, but even after Mercy allowed him to, he couldn’t quite work up the courage. His nights were haunted by the gaze you’d given him or the marks that littered your body.

He didn’t visit the medbay again, thinking it best to stay away before he got you hurt again. It wasn’t as if he had a whole lot of time either, what with Overwatch sending him this way and that to try and defend their name.

He saw you again almost two months after you’d woken up.

You were smiling, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You had a notepad in your hand, scribbling some words down onto it. Angela had told him that you didn’t speak anymore. She said it was a coping mechanism to the pain they’d caused you.

He told himself he was going to personally kill every Talon agent that night.

You’d been growing close to your friends once more, and Jack was happy to hear that, but his heart was breaking as he kept his distance.

“(Y/N),” he greeted with a nod.

You held up the notepad, your head tilted to the side.

_Hi, Jack._

He smiled, that familiar fluttering in his chest acting up again. It was tamped down with guilt soon enough.

“How are you doing this evening,” he asked, interested to hear how things were going.

Your tongue peeked out as you rushed to finish writing.

_Good, I don’t have any press conferences with the UN._

A jibe at him, he realized.

Jack chuckled gently, nodding his agreement.

“Speaking of which, I have to get going. Off to Switzerland today, actually. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you when I get back.”

You smiled widely, and this time it looked as if it’d even begun to reach your eyes. Jack’s heart warmed at the sight. He wanted to bring joy into your life after everything he had caused.

_Can’t wait._

Jack smirked, inclining his head in your direction when you gave him a little wave. He suddenly couldn’t wait until he had the opportunity to see you again. He wanted to help you rebuild what you had lost. Of course, it would have to wait until after he got back, but he wasn’t going to hide from you anymore.

He owed you that much.

\-------------------------------------------

You were in a session with Angela when you heard the news of what happened.

The world came crashing down once more, and the little bit of happiness you’d built since being rescued caved in on itself. Dark thoughts crept in on your mind, and you ran as fast as your feet could take you. You paid no mind as Angela yelled after you.

There was only you and this deep feeling of loss. You couldn’t take this on, not after everything. Even though you and Jack had only conversed twice since your rescue, he still meant the world to you.

You still loved him.

So when news of his death sprung up, you ran.

You didn’t stop running.

Not when you crashed into Reinhardt, not when the Petras Act signaled the end of Overwatch, not even when Tracer had sought you out.

You never stopped moving, not spending a minute to look back, because you knew if you did, you’d break.

There was no Jack to bring you back this time. There was no Angela to heal you. There was no McCree to joke with you. There was no Reinhardt to watch over you. There was no Gabriel to tease you. 

There was nobody.

It wasn’t until Winston issued the recall that you hesitated.

You could ignore it, keep living a half life, and walk out on the people who you once called family.

Or you could answer it.

You could face the past, the people you’d left behind. You could face the reality that Jack was gone.

That night, you cried.

You cried for what you lost, you cried for the pain you endured. You cried for your time with Talon, the memories that still shot ice down your spine. You cried for Overwatch, for your family. You cried for the people who were suffering because of the shutdown.

Most importantly, you cried for Jack.

You cried for the man who taught you what love was, the one who you had spent many nights talking to. You cried for the man that had been too good to the world that wanted to see him fail, the man that had befriended someone who would wrong him. You cried for the man who had saved you, who had given you purpose.

You cried for the man you had fallen in love with and the one you still loved.

That night, you answered Winston’s call with a simple message of yes.

That night, you joined Overwatch again.

\------------------------------------

The years had not been kind to Jack.

He’d gone through hell and back, though he felt it was almost deserved. He’d done so much wrong, hurt so many people, maybe he was meant to live a life of cruelty. He’d been so hesitant to join the recalled Overwatch, but Ana had finally convinced him.

For (Y/N), she had said.

Jack couldn’t argue.

He’d been met with so many familiar faces when he arrived at the new base. The one that had him tripping over his own feet was you, though. It’d been so long and you still looked as beautiful as the day he first saw you. His heart sped up as his eyes dropped in shame.

Time did nothing to fade his love.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Jack found himself gravitating towards you once more. It was natural, the two of you just clicked. He’d been so careful to keep himself guarded around you.

You were different, and so was Jack, but the differences did nothing to your relationship. You were still you, even with all the pain and time, and he was still him.  
Though, Jack still kept himself distant from you. Every time he saw you scribbling something onto a notepad or signing at someone, he felt a twinge of guilt.

After everything, it still hadn’t gone away.

He wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself for what had happened all those years ago. He was sure you’d never forget either. Your eyes were still so haunted, though he knew a little part of that was because of what had happened on the Switzerland base.

Either way, it was still his fault.

\----------------------------------------

It was a Friday when it happened.

Everybody on base was buzzing about, chattering amongst each other. You had been in the lab, inspecting a few of the newer gadgets, when Soldier: 76 had walked in.

You smiled to him, as you often did, though you never knew if he smiled back.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you down here,” he said in that deep voice of his.

It reminded you of Jack, in a way, except it was far more burdened and worn.

Your hand glided along the notepad, words scrawled across the paper. You’d gotten pretty fast at writing after all the years.

_Just curious, I suppose._

His head tilted a little to the side, and you idly wondered what he was thinking. It was hard to read someone who hid so much of who he was from view. You were good at reading people, but you could only discover so much without his eyes or the majority of his face.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something, actually,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with gloved fingers.

The gesture was familiar, one you’d seen Jack do so many times before. He inhaled sharply, audible even under the material of his mask.

You shifted your head a bit in a gesture for him to continue. He cleared his throat as if steeling himself for something monumental. Your heart quickened at the thought.

What could possibly be important enough for him to get so worked up over?

Without another word of explanation, he tore his mask from his face, sighing when he saw the shock in your eyes.

Staring back at you was a gaze you’d come to adore, one you’d learned to live without.

It was Jack.

Age had changed his face, a few more crinkles around his eyes and lines around his mouth, but not much besides that. Two scars ran down his face, ones that had not been there before. Undeniably, though, that was Jack.

You breathed.

Hadn’t you been hoping beyond belief that perhaps Jack was still alive? Perhaps, he’d survived, just as you had all those years ago?

You had prayed, cried, and begged for him to be alive. Your hopefulness always led you down dead-ends and broken leads. He wasn’t alive, and you’d accepted it the day you accepted the recall.

So, then, why was he here now?

Why could you see him so clearly?

Why had he been alive this whole time and not reached out to you?

It stung.

You felt betrayed.

You would’ve thrown your whole world away to keep him safe. He was your light, your beacon, and he had been alive this whole time. He had been right in front of you, and he hadn’t said a word. He’d seen you cry, and when he asked why, you’d always reply with “Jack,” yet he still never said anything.

Red hot fury bubbled beneath the surface, warring with sadness, relief, and desperation. Your mind was fighting, running this way and that with emotion. Anger won out momentarily, your hands tightening as you damn near broke the pen you were using.

You wrote furiously, pressing fiercely.

Jack didn’t bother waiting for you to hold it up, he watched over your shoulder as you wrote.

_You complete asshole. I mourned for you. I thought you died. Why did you not saying anything? Why would you let me believe you were dead? Why did you not-_

Jack stilled your hand for a second.

“I was protecting you,” he insisted, though you could see a glimmer of guilt in his eyes.

“I just wanted you to be safe. I’d already hurt you enough after… after everything. I couldn’t do it again so I ran.”

_You ran? YOU RAN? Jack fucking Morrison I was hurting so bad. I-_

You couldn’t keep up.

Jack was talking again, rambling on about how he couldn’t be the person he was before. He wasn’t paying attention to what you were writing and you couldn’t get him to understand the pure fury you felt with words.

Desperately, you tried to cry out, to get his attention so you could give him a piece of your mind. Your mouth opened, frustration boiling in your blood when nothing came out. You kept trying and trying, forcing anything out.

Jack was still talking, yelling about this or that, but you were too focused. It hadn’t been until he said, “I did what I thought was right,” when you finally found your voice.

It wasn’t much, nothing more than an annoyed growl, but it still sounded. Jack hadn’t heard it, as he was still going on, but you had. Your heart sped up, resolve growing as you tried again.

This time it was a little louder.

Your confidence grew, memories waging a war with your mind, trying to silence your voice, but you couldn’t see them. They were fading in the back of your mind, becoming a part of the foundation that built you instead of the crane that was trying to destroy you. It was a scar, not an open wound.

“Shut the hell up, Jack!” You managed to yell.

After years of disuse, your voice was foreign to you. The volume was a little louder than you intended, but Jack’s jaw clicked shut. His eyes were wide, as were yours. You hadn’t expected to speak, not so soon, maybe not ever.

“You just…”

He was too shocked to finish the sentence.

“I loved you,” you finally admitted, exhausted from pushing yourself to speak.

The words were a little jumbled, not as articulate as they had once been, but you were sure after time it’d be fixed.

“I was going to tell you after that mission…”

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat, a heavy boot on the ground as he stepped forward. His eyes were shining bright, and for a moment you didn’t see the vigilante, Soldier: 76, nor did you see the Strike Commander. Instead, you saw the boy from Indiana who had dreamed of the world.

You saw the Jack Morrison that burned bright in his soul.

“Why did you let me believe…?”

You couldn’t finish.

You hadn’t even noticed tears were falling until Jack wiped one away. Your heart was breaking in your chest and you didn’t know what to do.

You dropped yourself into Jack’s contact and he accepted you with open arms. He held tightly, desperately, and you could tell that he needed this contact as much as you.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his voice weaker than you’d ever heard it.

You nodded against him, burying your head in his chest as your fingers wrapped into his jacket. His lips were against your forehead, pressed tightly like you’d fall away the minute he let go.

“I missed you so much, Jack,” you whispered.

He could hear the loss in your voice. You were broken. He knew it was more than just his supposed death. You were finally coming to terms with what had happened.  
You were finally accepting the events of the past years.

You stayed that way for a while, Jack’s arms wrapped around you as you cried into his chest. He was whispering words into your ear, telling you about how he missed you, how he loved you.

Finally, you pulled away.

“I need time to heal, Jack,” you admitted lowly, meeting his gaze.

He nodded, understanding. You were on the road to recovery, but Jack knew it could be a tricky one. He knew it’d take time.

“I’ll wait,” he promised.

Your heart squeezed.

You knew he’d be right there when the time came, but until then, he was your shoulder to cry on. He was your light.

He was your love.


	16. Life's A Beach! (Jesse McCree x Reader, Soldier: 76 x Reader, Hanzo x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three individual drabbles written based off the same prompt, not poly.

**McCree:**

Before becoming an agent of the newly recalled Overwatch, you’d been a passionate lover of summer. It was a time for rest and relaxation, where all your worries melted like a popsicle in the middle of July. Now, however, you would spend the hottest summer days trapped under pounds of gear. You were uncomfortable and convinced you were going to die of heat. If the heat didn’t kill you off, you knew the bullets flying this way or that would.

Your appreciation for the hottest season had surely faded. It didn’t help that some of your teammates, ahem, McCree, seemed to be entirely immune to the immense heat. You could’ve just slapped (kissed) that stupid smirk off his face when you jumped around, attempting to throw your gear as far from you as you could manage.

But, that was before D.Va announced the impromptu beach party her and Lúcio had planned. She’d jumped ship shortly after, yelling behind her that she expected everybody to be there and ready within the hour. Grumbles had echoed her announcement, but her and Lúcio were already out of earshot.

You’d been quick to shower and change, picking the only swimsuit you’d had in your closet since Overwatch had reformed. You’d kept it more out of unwillingness to part with it rather than necessity. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get yourself to part with the red suit. It’d been an impulse buy, something that just caught your eye while out at the mall one day. You’d never actually had the chance to wear it, so you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited.

You’d made it to the beach just slightly passed an hour, the party in full swing. You didn’t know when the duo had time to coordinate this, but it was incredible. The beach had tons of decorations scattered about and a giant stage where Lúcio was playing his jams. Not to mention, they had an open tiki bar. You shook your head at their creativeness with such little time.

“Darlin’,” a rough tone drawled from behind you.

You sucked a breath in, not knowing how McCree would react to your swimsuit. Unconsciously, you ran a hand through your hair, cursing yourself for caring about what he thought of you so much.

“Jesse,” you greeted, unable to hold back a smile as you turned to the cowboy.

“Might I be the first to say,” he began, eyes slowly dragging down your figure. He drank in every inch of bare skin, eliciting a shiver down your spine. “You are stunnin’.”

You wanted to reply with something just as flirty and elegant, you really did. However, McCree stood before you tanned and shirtless. His sun-kissed skin looked soft and inviting, spreading like a canvas over each defined muscle. He was in a silly getup, what with his blonde hair and lifeguard act, but you’d be damned if he didn’t make that work.

“See somethin’ you like?” Jesse teased, a smirk playing on his lips. 

The bastard knew how attractive he was and he was finding entertainment in the way it riled you up. Oh, two could play at that buddy.

You hummed, dropping your voice an octave as you took a step forward.

“Very much so,” you said, placing a hand on his bare chest.

A hot feeling skittered down your spine, almost forcing you to break character.

“In fact, I was thinking…” You began, stretching up to speak directly next to his ear.

His hands hovered above your hips, eyes dark and lidded. His gaze had flicked to your chest, admiring what skin he could as you spoke, the heat of your breath tightening his stomach. He was damn near aching and you’d barely touched him.

“What were you thinkin’, darlin’?” He asked, voice husky and full of desire.

Your head tilted the slightly, and McCree knew if he were to lean just the smallest bit forward he could absolutely cherish the exposed skin.

“Maybe I need a little lifeguard assistance,” you accentuated the word, brushing your chest against his as you spoke.

His hum, which very much sounded like a moan, vibrated lowly in his throat, his hand ghosting a path up your spine.

“Or maybe,” you continued, voice as smooth as butter, your fingers toying with the hem of his swimming trunks, “I’ll race you to the water.”

An ungraceful “what?” tumbled past his lips as you shoved him to the side with all your might. The man stumbled through the sand, his daze not allowing him to find his footing. He fell to the sand in a frustrated and turned-on mess. By the time he lifted his head, the hot sun beating down heatedly on his messy hair, you were already splashing away in the cool water.

McCree sighed, a laugh bubbling in his chest. He was so going to get you back for this.

**Soldier: 76:**

Jack Morrison: a soldier, a vigilante, a grill master.

He sighed, the bitter taste of beer on his tongue. He’d only accepted to join in on the Overwatch summer party so that he’d possibly have time to get to talk to you. A grimace covered his lips as he looked down at his spatula. He’d taken on the duty of the team cook, meanwhile, you were down by the water.

You were wearing a short little sundress that made his pulse quicken. He wasn’t the type to like bright and cheery colors, like the pink of your dress, but he somehow liked it on you. It matched your personality, so vibrant and full of life. He knew the feelings he harbored for you were unfair. He’d destroy your lightness, just like he destroyed everything else.

Mood now dimmed, 76 looked down at the burgers he was grilling. He took an extra large gulp of his cold beer, before flipping the burgers. He’d pulled a few off early for the ones who liked it more rare. Most of them were still on the grill, waiting to be cooked to perfection. Jack wasn’t a professional cook by any means, but that didn’t stop him from volunteering for the job.

“They look good,” you commented, startling Jack out of his brooding thoughts.

He side eyed you, though he doubt you noticed with his sunglasses on.

“Let’s hope they taste that way,” he grumbled, popping a few more off the grill.

Jack was in his own little area by the picnic tables, long abandoned by the other agents of Overwatch. They were all too excited about the beach, leaving the old soldier to his own devices as he prepared their meal. 

“I bet they’re even better!” You exclaimed, smiling brightly.

Soldier: 76 missed a beat, nearly dropping his spatula. Your smile could weaken him more than any wound could.

“What are you doing over here, anyway?” Jack asked, genuinely curious.

You seemed to be having fun talking to the other agents. You’d been laughing and smiling along with them, he was baffled that you’d leave them for a second.  
“You looked like you could use a little company,” you said, causing Jack’s heart to swell. Your kindness never ceased to amaze him.

“Besides, Reinhardt was starting to challenge people to a drinking contest. No thank you, I’d like to live.” You shot Jack a wink, feeling satisfied when he smirked.

It wasn’t often that you got to see this much of Jack’s face. He’d always kept himself covered with that mask of his, save the one time you’d been there in Dorado. He had gotten hurt, worse than you’d ever seen. Mercy had torn the mask from his face, yelling left and right for someone to carry him out of the battle so she could properly attend to his wounds. That deep in battle she couldn’t concentrate on him, too busy trying to protect herself from getting shot down.

McCree and Winston had been trying to get to him, but they were just too far away. Soldier: 76 was fading fast and he needed help. You’d torn your way through the battlefield like a hurricane and swooped in. It didn’t matter that 76 was much larger than you, your pumping heart granted you the power to cradle the man to your chest and run faster than you ever had. Only once you got to the ship did you realize that his mask was removed.

For a moment, his bright blue eyes looked straight into yours, a small smile on his lips. That was the second you realized that you were in love. Ever since then, you’d been growing closer to Jack. This party was nothing more than another opportunity to learn more about him.

“Well, I’m touched you’d spare this old man some of your time.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning against the nearest table.

“Oh, hurry up and finish grilling so you can get over there and join the real party.”

Jack smiled. He genuinely smiled, a little laugh bubbling to his lips. You’d never heard something so sweet.

“I’m not so sure I’m the partying type anymore.” Jack admitted, taking a sip out of his beer.

He was glad you’d come over to talk to him, but he almost felt guilty because of it. He didn’t deserve your company and he certainly didn’t deserve you.

“Not even when Lúcio is the DJ?” You teased, leaning forward on the balls of your feet.

“Especially not then,” Soldier: 76 grumbled, getting the last of the burgers off the grill. The last few were a little overcooked, but he had been the slightest bit distracted so it wasn’t really his fault.

“Not a dancer, I take it?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hardly,” he admitted, setting the burgers on the table you were currently leaning against.

His hands wrapped around, freeing his apron from the knot that held it together. He crumpled it up in his hand, throwing the item somewhere beside the grill, your gaze on him during the whole interaction.

“Too bad, Jack, you owe me a dance,” you sighed, shaking your head in false sympathy.

“That so?” One corner of his lips quirked up. His arms mimicked yours, though his stance was much more serious while yours was lax and teasing.

“I did save your life, I think that merits me one dance,” you shrugged, pushing yourself off so you were a few inches in front of Jack.

“I suppose one wouldn’t kill me,” he agreed, a more genuine smile spreading across his scarred lips.

“It’s a date then,” you mumbled, your confidence wavering the slightest bit, heat blossoming on your cheeks.

“It sure is,” he whispered as you yelled to the others that dinner was all cooked.

**Hanzo:**

You’d been, at times, a bit unpredictable. So, Hanzo wasn’t all that surprised when you shouted about a surprise beach party, ushering people by the dozens out of the ship and onto the warm sand. Most of them were a bit put off since they didn’t have bathing suits, but they eventually warmed up to the idea.

Hanzo wasn’t particularly keen on spending the rest of his day in 100 degree weather and covered in sand. He sent you a disapproving look when you got off the bus. That look, however, melted entirely when you’d shed your outfit to reveal a drool-worthy black bathing suit.

He realized he’d been staring for too long when you noticed it, a sly smirk growing. You’d caught him perfectly.

For months now you and Hanzo had a cat and mouse game going. You liked each other. It was abundantly clear to anybody who spent a lick of time with you. The only problem was: you couldn’t get Hanzo to accept it.

He was so afraid that by agreeing that he felt something for you, his past would come back to ruin whatever you built. It was a little frustrating that he was so close yet so far away, but you understood. He’d always come so close to caving in, but he’d run before he fully committed.

The beach day was originally a plan to cool down that eventually evolved into something more. It would keep everyone else busy so you and Hanzo could actually talk without being interrupted by this or that.

“Hanzo,” you whisper yelled, jogging up to him.

A small smile blossomed on his lips.

“(Y/N),” he breathed, graciously following you as you practically dragged him away from the beach.

He knew you too well to think that you didn’t have some sort of ulterior motive for the impulse beach trip. He could only imagine what it was, though he had a feeling it had to do with the very large elephant in the room.

You were pulling a little roughly, but Hanzo had no trouble keeping up. Anxiousness spurred you forward at a quick rate, sand not even having time to settle around your bare feet before you moved to the next step. You’d been to this beach quite often, so finding your way around wasn’t really a problem.

You rehearsed the plan in your head. All you had to do was make it to the cove, confess your feelings, and then hopefully good stuff happens. You were done with the games and the guessing. You were just going to be absolutely honest with him and if he breaks your heart… well… you would just have to deal with it when the time comes.

The beach ahead was interrupted by a large amount of rocks, only a little opening barely large enough for one person allowed entrance. You’d found it when you were just little, exploring the beach in the freedom of childhood. It’d been a spot of solace and peacefulness for you. You only hoped today it could be a spot for even more memories.

You slipped ahead of Hanzo, passing through into the little cove. Jagged, dark rocks formed a semi-circle on the shore, leading into the ocean. The sun shone down on the water, the waves glistening like a thousand little diamonds. It never failed to take your breath away.

“Hanzo, listen,” you began, turning to him.

Hanzo was still in his gear, his bow strung around his back and his hair a little out of place. Sweat, dirt, and a little blood littered his skin, his soft eyes wary. Butterflies swirled in your tummy at the sight of him.

“Yes?” He inquired, voice low as if he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

“I care about you.” You deadpanned, sucking a breath in. A wave crashed against the shore as you continued. “Not just the way a teammate should, but the way a lover should. You are so much more than a friend to me and I just thought that you deserved to know how I feel. Loving you is too hard of a secret for me to keep private anymore.”

Hanzo’s heart froze in his chest, his cheeks heating up. His mouth opened, but no words came out. His mind was screaming at him, telling him to answer you, but he just couldn’t force the words out. He’d been keeping himself from loving you fully the way he should, but he couldn’t anymore. He had to tell you.

So, Hanzo finally forced his words out.

“You are my happiness,” he said simply, as if that was enough.

For you, it certainly was. Hanzo was a man of few words, especially when he could say ones that meant so much.

Your head fell back a titch as you smiled lazily.

Hanzo admired you (as well your bathing suit) before hesitantly stepping closer.

“Might I,” he gestured, a hand resting on your jaw.

You knew from his movements he was going in for a kiss, stopping only an inch away for your confirmation.

“Yes,” you breathed out, nearly laughing at how such a strong man asked for permission for a kiss. “Always.”


	17. Sweet as Sugar (Soldier: 76 x Reader)

You savored the taste of coffee, equal parts bitter and sweet, washing away the exhaustion of the sleepless night before.

Truth was, you weren’t as okay as you acted. You were in deep, and you knew it, but you couldn’t seem to pull yourself out. If only you hadn’t fallen in love with the man.

If only you hadn’t fallen for the soft smiles and bright eyes.

But you did.

You knew it had to end. You couldn’t keep going on like this. You and Jack had an agreement, he was paying for your way through college- with money you didn’t dare ask how he attained it- and in return, you’d offer him companionship. In the beginning, it wasn’t even about sex. It was just about hearing him out, almost like you were a damn therapist, but then he’d admitted to a physical need.

He told you it was your choice, that if you didn’t want to offer that up, he wouldn’t ask again. Something had you accepting his proposal. You weren’t sure if it was your own physical needs, or perhaps it was because you’d grown fond of the man, but you initiated the contact.

You almost wish you could go back, to tell him no, then book it the hell out of there.

In the beginning, it was so much easier. He’d been rough, and very to the point. There wasn’t a lot of unnecessary touches or longing kisses. As time passed, it began to get more intimate, as if it wasn’t a transaction, but a meaningful communion.

Just last night he’d looked deep into your eyes as the throes of pleasure took hold, your head falling back towards the pillows. He’d watched you so sweetly, cooing the most loving and reverent words into your ear. You found your heart breaking in your chest when you remembered that you weren’t his lover, you were his way to find release.

That was when you realized you needed to get out.

You’d find a way to pay on your own. You’d do anything if it meant getting away from him.

“(Y/N),” Jack greeted, a sigh on his lips as he sat himself across from you.

He was sans visor and mask, bright eyes shining as they always did. The rays of sun fell onto his figure, illuminating the harsh scars that were drawn on his face. His exterior was so tough, something you found to be very contradicting of who he was inside.

Your smile was bittersweet, your warm mug hitting the table with a small thud. You were in your apartment, somewhere you felt rather comfortable, as you steeled yourself to give him the news.

“Jack,” you began, a little more cordial than normal.

It was disappointing that it came to this. He meant so much to you, and to think you were going to have to go on without him, it nearly broke your heart.

He inclined his head, his eyes alert, as if he knew you were going to say something bad. One of his hands were resting on his visor, which lay discarded on the wood table. A defense mechanism, you realized.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

Your heart was beginning to tear at the seams, the blood and oxygen pumping through not seeming enough. You could feel that pressure behind your eyes, the one trying to force tears through, but you didn’t grant it the satisfaction. You steeled your gaze, straightened your spine, and pursed your lips.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up, mouth opening as words failed to form. He was surprised.

You watched as his chest moved with a few breaths, his tongue darting out to wet his tongue as he worked out a sentence in his mind.

Finally:

“Why?”

You swallowed thickly, trying to keep your voice void of any emotion as you spoke.

“I’m sorry, Jack, I really am, I just can’t.” You whispered.

The look behind his cerulean eyes was too much. You looked away, staring at the light reflecting off your kitchen counter. It was still pretty early in the morning when you called him. You’d preferred it that way so you wouldn’t toss and turn all night while thoughts haunted your mind.

You didn’t doubt that despite you having an entire day to process it, it’d still sting come nighttime.

“Why?” He repeated, this time a little harder.

It wasn’t anger. No, you knew when he was angry, he was tense. His voice would get gravelly, more so than normal, his tone almost eerily calm. This wasn’t anger, this was something you couldn’t quite place, something you’d never heard before.

Desperate didn’t seem quite the right word, but it was definitely toying along that line.

“Does it matter?” You breathed out after a pause.

Though his gaze was begging for you to look, you focused anywhere but him, but the very apartment you were standing in held memories everywhere.

In the sink lay an unwashed pan, one you hadn’t gotten around to cleaning yet, where Jack had made you dinner the night before. On the floor by the fridge was a scuff mark, where Jack had gotten a little eager while moving things toward the bedroom that he didn’t even know his own strength. A million little things around your apartment, things that most wouldn’t even notice, flashed memories through your mind.

God, this hurt.

“Yes it matters,” Jack said, something in that gruff voice of his just getting to you.

Finally, your eyes snapped to him, and fuck you were weak. You were breaking under his gaze, you just knew it, but you couldn’t tell him.

Jesus, you couldn’t tell him.

Maybe you were a coward, but you’d rather run than let him know how you felt.

Jack wasn’t deterred by you, a wild look in his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair, getting closer to you.

“I can’t lose you,” he pleaded, by now less than an inch before you.

“I just love you so much and I-”

He froze.

You froze.

He what?

You noticed the minute he realized what he said, his gaze going wide and his muscles tense. He was reaching for his visor when your hand flew out, a weak grasp keeping him in place. You knew he was more than strong enough to rip your hand away and carry on, but he was stopped by curiosity.

“Jack,” you began tentatively, watching carefully.

He was vulnerable. It was clear in the slow rise of his chest and the bob of his Adam’s apple. Something was shining in those baby blue eyes, something akin to hope, and with a surge of courage, you felt confident in telling him.

“The reason I wanted it to end was because I love you,” you admitted quietly.

A beat passed with nothing happening.

And then another.

And another.

You laughed nervously, half wondering if you’d broken the man.

“Jack?”

All at once he snapped back. No longer was he restrained by unspoken feelings, instead acting simply upon his heart’s desires. He surged forward, his hands on your head pulling you in for a kiss as it’d done time and time before, only, this was different.

The slide of your lips against him was hungry, but loving. It was passionate, and fiery, and desperate, and needy. He was a man that starved for love.

The swipes of his tongue against yours were soothing, unlike their normal roughness. He was exploratory with your tongue, soft and slow. You sighed into the contact, feeling his smile brush against your lips.

It was sickly sweet, your fingers twining with his as you led him towards the bedroom, your hot drink abandoned on the table. Jack was watching you with adoration, a soft upturn of his lips not stuttering once. His fingers fell away from yours, running up the smooth skin of your abdomen as his eyes followed the path of your shirt, stopping only once it landed on the ground.

“Your turn?” You asked playfully, hopefully.

Jack found himself infected by the lively behavior, chucking his shirt to the side without a second thought. His heart sped fast in his chest as your gaze slid over every scar that made him. He knew you were looking at him, not in the way someone starved eyes a meal, but in the way an artist admires their work.

“I’ll never understand how perfect you are,” you breathed.

A chuckle worked its way up Jack’s throat, your eyes perking at the sound. It washed over you, sending a shiver up your spine and reminding you just how much you needed Jack in the moment.

He could see the look in your eyes sober almost immediately after he laughed. Apparently, he’d managed to strike a cord in you, and he was most definitely going to use it to his advantage.

“You’re absolutely exquisite,” he stated, his fingers working around his belt.

He was going deliberately slow, drinking in the way your eyes were darkening as you watched the movement, your tongue wetting your lips as the seconds drew by.  
You distracted yourself by discarding your own pants, gazing at him all the while. He was attractive, in a rugged sort of way. His body was littered with scars, stories. While he did have a seductive look in his eyes as he threw his boots, then pants, then briefs to the side, he looked vulnerable. This time it was going to be different, you both knew it.

It was going to be more intimate, more personal.

It was going to be loving.

Jack got back on the bed, bared completely before you.

“So beautiful,” he breathed, his fingers just barely ghosting over your skin.

Electricity crawled up your spine, a soft gasp sneaking past your parted lips. He hadn’t even really touched you yet and you were already shaking with anticipation.

“Jack,” you complained breathlessly.

A chuckled rumbled from his chest as he leaned in for another kiss, his lips so gentle against your own. His tongue stroked your lazily, bold fingers wandering down your stomach, your muscles clenching as he got closer to where you needed him most.

You quivered as his fingers sought out your heat, languid strokes of his fingers against your clit.

“I got you,” he promised in a low, deep tone.

His voice had your head falling backward. Your eyes shut tight as he moved two fingers into your slick heat, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

Pleasure began to build behind your eyes, coaxing moans and whispers from your lips. Jack watched your reactions to him, his cock painfully hard at the wondrous noises you were making.

Your breathing was increasing, words becoming more incoherent as he continued. The building tension in your muscles came to a peak when he hit a particularly sensitive spot, your mind singing with pleasure as the world faded around you.

You were grounded by Jack, his name on your lips as your muscles tensed, then fell limp. Vaguely, you felt him retract his hand. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was smirking.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, taking a moment to catch your breath.

Jack was very skilled with his hands. If that look on his face said anything, he damn well knew it too.

“I didn’t say anything,” he teased, dropping a few more loving kisses to your neck.

He couldn’t keep his hands, or his lips, off of you. He was just so overwhelmed by the thumping of his chest.

“I think I owe you now,” you hinted, breath a little more even than it had been before.

His words were muffled against your skin as he replied. It must not have been too important, seeing how he didn’t say anything further as you switched positions.

“I’m glad you know, Jack,” you whispered seriously, fingertips lightly running down the length of his cheek.

He gave you a little smile, a breathless chuckle on his lips as he nodded.

“This is so much better,” he admitted, his hands reaching out to steady your hips.

You nodded in agreement, positioning yourself just above his aching length.

“This okay?” You asked, leaning down a little bit to place a chaste kiss to the underside of his chin.

He groaned low in response, barely able to contain the thrust of his hips upwards. That was all the encouragement you needed as you eased yourself down, taking him inch by inch. It felt so good to be filled by him, a familiar, yet newly profound feeling.

This time was different, you thought, tentatively raising your hips, only to pull them back down.

Jack moaned your name, guiding you with his hands as you began to find a steady pace.

“That’s, uh, a good sight,” he hissed, his eyes squeezing.

The feel of you wrapped around him never failed to amaze him. It drove him quicker to release than anything he’d ever known.

“That’s a better one,” you giggled, the sound lost to a string of moans and curses when he hit just the right spot.

Once more, you could feel the build in the pit of your stomach, the slow ascension towards release. Jack seemed to notice, if your faster pace had anything to say about it, his hips moving in tandem with yours. You couldn’t fathom how perfectly the two of you seemed to fit together. It was like your bodies were meant for each other.

“Christ,” Jack growled, slamming himself up into you.

He couldn’t hold back, and you were sure you’d be mad if he did because you were so, so close. There was a growing light behind your eyes, your thoughts going this way and that as you chased that feeling.

“Jack,” you moaned, “please.”

He sped up further, the bed sounding as if it was going to break with the intensity the two of you were moving, but neither of you paid it mind. You were too focused on finding that perfect feeling.

You clenched around him, screaming his name as the feeling came tumbling down around you, pushing and pulling your body apart. Your back was arched, your eyes rolled back. Your heart was pounding in your chest, pleasure throbbing through the muscles in your body.

Jack kept going, the look of you coming apart sending a pulsing down his spine.

“I love you,” he shouted, his seed spilling as he met his high.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he kept repeating, holding you close to his chest as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

You were both a mess of sweaty skin and mussed hair. Dopey grins were exchanged, your head against his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You asked him, becoming putty underneath his hands as he massaged the muscles in your back.

He sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“We can always make up for lost time,” he suggested lightly.

You laughed, burying yourself in his embrace.

To think that you were so worried, nursing your coffee just this morning.


	18. Charms (Young Genji x Reader)

Strike Commander Morrison had assured you it wasn’t a punishment.

Commander Reyes had said it most definitely was.

Your lips were pulled in a frown as you watched your fingers tap against the solid wood of a table. Covert operations were one thing you’d definitely excelled at during your time with Blackwatch, but this one offered no excitement. You’d been sent to Japan to monitor the growing influence of the yakuza. The Shimada Clan, which was at the forefront of illegal activity, was a point of interest. Since you were pretty much on Overwatch timeout, they’d sent you instead of McCree.

Then again, you definitely have covert ops down, McCree doesn’t. He’s too set in his aesthetic.

“You are Artemis?” The voice, lightly lined with an accent, inquired before you.

Your facade nearly broke at the sound of your code name coming from someone who was decidedly not an Overwatch agent.

You met his hard eyes, the brown darkened with tiredness- or, perhaps, wariness. The corners of his mouth were turned down, his muscles tensed like he didn’t quite trust you. He was in traditional clothing with a stance that held power. This was the man you were looking for.

“Hanzo,” you bowed slightly.

After this mission, you had no doubt you’d be back on the Commander’s good side. He didn’t even expect you to make contact with the clan for at least another week or so.

You’d been invited to the Shimada Clan as an interested investor under the pseudonym Artemis Rhea, a nod to your love for Greek mythology as much as it was to your wisdom. The past week had spent creating the character of Artemis, a young lady who had inherited a great deal of money from her parents. She was a business woman, who yielded, not only results, but profit.

Gabriel was always impressed with your hacking skills, now you had no doubt he’d be even more pleased.

“We are honored by your interest in doing business with us,” Hanzo said respectfully.

A soft breeze blew through the open balcony, wind rustling through his hair. He had a deadly sort of charm about him, and you had no doubt he wielded a great deal of power beneath the calm face.

“I am honored you acknowledged my interest,” you replied smoothly, your entire being becoming the character you’d constructed.

From the expensive, lacy dress you wore to the confident smile, you were the picture of elegance and professionalism. Hanzo would never know you had three weapons stashed on your person and the strength to take down every one of his guards.

“Please, allow me to show you around,” he offered respectfully.

You’d be staying here for nearly a week, according to Hanzo’s invitation. He was giving you accommodations, as well the opportunity to better understand the business. It was perfect, really, and you knew that Gabriel was going to love it.

You graciously accepted his proposal, lifting yourself to your full height. Hanzo still stood a bit above you, caution in his stare.

From what you’d heard in rumors around the place, Hanzo was a rather strict ruler, even more so than his father. He was all business, unlike the infamous brother, Genji. 

Hanzo kept quiet for the most part, presenting important rooms that you’d need for your stay, but not much else. He gave you instructions on how to leave the premises, should you wish to visit Hanamura.

You’d been to a great many places in your time with Blackwatch, but Hanamura had a special charm to it. It was breathtaking, a picture of beauty among a location of horror. 

“Your home is beautiful, Hanzo,” you said, resting your purse on the wooden dresser.

The room was nice, and much larger than what you were used to. Ornate paintings and cherry wood decorated the room. One wall was almost made entirely of windows, the dimming light shining through with soft ambiance.

He bowed his head, acknowledging to compliment, before taking his leave.

As soon as he was out of sight, you shut the door, pulling the comm device from your purse.

“Your favorite agent, checking in,” you teased.

You heard a sigh on the other end.

“I’m his favorite agent,” was muttered in the distant, that southern twang prompting an eye roll.

“What do you have?”

Gabriel’s voice was strained, and you could almost see him running a hand down his face, his legs up on the computer table as he often did. You’d never admitted, but you kind of missed him. You kind of missed McCree too.

“I’m in,” you said, tightening the strap that held your six-shooter to your leg.

It’d been a gift from McCree for your birthday one year. It was pearly white, the barrel a clean silver, and the bullets a bright blue. He said he found it in one of the factories he’d ‘visited’ on his search for Lance Bushami, a very powerful investor with ties to Talon.

You smiled fondly at the memory. He’d spent the whole afternoon teaching you to shoot with it, and while you’d definitely excelled, he claimed you were a right cowgirl by the end of it.

“You’re in?” Gabriel mimicked.

“Yep,” you popped the ‘p’ with a shit-eating grin. 

There was something so satisfying about surpassing Gabriel’s expectations, and wowing McCree in the process.

“Gather what information you can,” he replied after a moment, a creak sounding as he leaned forward in his chair.

“You got it, boss,” you answered, mock saluting to the empty room.

“Oh, and (Y/N)?”

You hummed noncommittally, admiring the soft green accents to the room. It was decorated with a bird- sparrow, by the looks. It had an elegant charm to it, one that was equal parts traditional and stylish.

“You did good, kid.”

You smiled, slipping the device back into your purse. From what you’d gathered from the tour, and the blueprints you’d memorized of the place, you could guess you were in the west corner of the grounds.

“Smart,” you muttered, closing your eyes to visualize the blueprints.

Most of the illegal activity, from what you could gather, was ushered in the east wing. Clearly, Hanzo had taken you as far from there as he could. You were mapping routes in your mind, discovering exits and entry points as you began to shed your clothes for the day, when a rustling outside caught your attention.

Your fingers tiptoed towards the gun resting against your thigh, the cool metal a comfort as your bare feet padded against the cold ground. The light curtains of the window swayed with the breeze, moonlight casting a soft light into the room. The night was cool and windy, the perfect conditions for some smaller critter, perhaps, but your trained ears knew better.

It was a human.

One well-versed in the art of stealth, but a human nonetheless.

You could here the gentle patters of feet against the wall, growing louder as the person grew closer. It was almost imperceptible, but then again, you were trained for situations like these.

You closed your hand around the handle of the six-shooter Jesse McCree had personally gifted you, ready to draw just as quick as he’d taught you.

It’s all in the wrist, he’d said.

You steeled a breath, waiting in silence as the sound stopped. He was preparing to hoist himself up.

You swallowed, shifting your weight as you pressed yourself forward the slightest bit. Just as you’d been about to draw your weapon, a tuft of green hair popped itself over your window, tumbling onto the floor.

You tilted your head. Surely, this wasn’t an assassin.

“Who are you?” You inquired, relaxing your grip for the moment.

The man seemed startled, jumping to his feet quickly, preparing a fighting stance. When he saw you, however, he dropped it, his arms crossing over his chest. He went from crawling into your window, to fighter, to flirtatious, all in the span of five seconds.

“My brother bought me a gift?” He practically purred.

Your eyes narrowed.

Wait, he didn’t think-?

Oh.

_Oh._

“I am not a gift,” you ground out, half tempted to pull the gun from your leg.

“Such a beautiful woman, in my house, at night, in such clothes,” he gestured towards you.

Idly, you realized that yes, you weren’t wearing pants, and that perhaps you weren’t really wearing a bra either, but still, he couldn’t just assume you were- wait, his house?

“Your house?” You asked dryly. “Thought Hanzo owned the place.”

The man reacted poorly to the mention of Hanzo, rolling his shoulders back.

“The Shimada’s own the place,” he corrected, “and I am a Shimada, Genji Shimada.”

Your eyes widened a fraction and you mentally cursed yourself. Good thing you kept your cool well enough to not pull your gun on him, because you doubt they’d let you continue to stay there if you’d threatened a Shimada.

“Well, sorry then,” you mumbled. You always did hate apologizing, even if it was for the sake of your mission.

He shrugged it off, as if he himself didn’t much care for the Shimada title.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He inquired, a hand pointing towards your suitcase.

Clearly, Hanzo hadn’t informed his brother you’d be staying with them.

“Business,” you replied, voice tight. Once more you placed the mask of a business woman on, offering indifference and forced politeness.

Genji’s eyebrows raised, as if he almost noticed the change in behavior. You’d transformed from a mostly carefree agent of Overwatch into an intelligent businesswoman in the blink of an eye. Most wouldn’t have thought much of it, but that look in his gaze told you he noticed.

Perhaps there was more to Genji than met the eye, more than anyone of the Shimada clan cared to talk about.

“Then I am sorry to interrupt.”

He flashed you a grin, and you knew he was very happy he had interrupted. He didn’t even seem to care you were, as far as he knew, a potential investor.

“I am surprised, most of my brother’s business partners are not nearly as pretty,” he said smoothly, leaning against the wall, looking for all the world like he owned the place.

Well, he did, you supposed, but still, he looked far too confident for someone who’d jumped in through the window.

“I’m surprised as well,” you whispered sweetly, leaning a little closer to Genji.

His eyes darkened, gaze moving down to watch your chest, then back towards your face. He shifted a bit in stance, humming in question. His hand reached out, almost about to touch you. You could tell he’d done this many times before, charm certainly was something he had plenty of.

“Why would that be?”

You smirked, a devious little motion as your fingers stopped just below his chin. You pushed yourself closer to him, chest almost touching chest, but not quite. Your breathing sent a visible shiver down his spine, words low and sensual.

“They said you were the charming one.”

A sweet, melodic laughter rolled past your lips, your body rolling back as you shifted your weight towards the heels of your feet.

Genji had a frown, his eyes narrowed a fraction.

“I am very charming,” he challenged.

His posture changed, almost defensive as he rose to the dare your words had sparked.

“I suppose you have a week to prove that,” you shrugged innocently, a guiltless smile on your lips.

Genji grinned something fierce, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of a new chase. He looked near sinful, running his tongue along his front teeth.

“I suppose I do,” he breathed, voice just a tad lower than before.

Already, you could begin to see the cogs turning in his head, dictating the fate that would befall on you while in the Shimada Castle. He pushed himself off the wall, brushing invisible dirt from his shoulder.

“A week it is then,” he nodded, bowing from the waist down as he walked towards the exit.

The door creaked as he opened it, a pause before the light padding of his feet began once more.

“Good luck, Genji Shimada,” you called after him.

He cracked a smile.


End file.
